by Stacy Gregg
Issie was urging him to keep his gallop steady between the jumps, but she knew it was up to her to maintain the fine line between making it home within the time and pushing her horse too hard. If she asked the horse for too much then Victory might get too exhausted. And exhausted horses made mistakes—sometimes fatal ones.
As she approached fence fifteen, the country-style gates, Issie could feel Victory’s stride flagging just a little beneath her, but when she asked him to push on for the jump, he didn’t hesitate. Together their timing was perfect as Victory put in two strides between the fences and leapt the gates like a kangaroo—with a neat bounce stride between them.
“Good lad!” Issie cried out with relief as they landed safely. Then she pushed him on again back into a relentless gallop. They took the next three jumps without her even bothering to slow his stride. They weren’t big questions and she was right when she estimated that the brown gelding could take them with ease. As they landed after the third fence, Issie glanced down at the seconds ticking by on her watch. It was going to be close—she would have to ride like crazy all the way to the finish line.
Victory’s tiredness was apparent now. “Two more jumps, boy, that’s all it is, just two more,” Issie murmured to her horse. Fence nineteen was huge. It was a wooden bridge and riders could choose either to go across it and then jump a small rail at the end or they could take the fast route and jump the bridge itself. Despite Victory’s exhaustion, Issie trusted her horse to take the fast route. She checked him back to a canter and then urged him on so hard at the jump, it almost felt like she was picking him up and lifting him over it!
Victory flew the bridge with a grunt. “Only one more to go, boy,” Issie told him as she leant low over the gelding’s neck. “One more and we’re home.”
SHe knew Victory couldn’t possibly understand what she was saying, but somehow the horse sensed that his rider’s urgings meant that they were near the end. He summoned up his last reserves of energy and galloped on even harder, taking the flower-bed jump with ears pricked forward and his head held high. Then they were racing across the finish line and Issie was vaulting off his back and into the arms of her teammates, who were cheering and screaming in disbelief and total joy.
Victory had made it within the time and with no jumping faults. Their score brought the total of the All-Stars’ team to a brilliant 251 versus the Super-Roos’ total of 262. Issie and Victory had put the All-Stars a whole eleven points in the lead! They had done it. They had won.
As the rest of her teammates gathered around her, there was one member of the All-Stars Issie was desperate to see.
“Where’s Morgan?” she asked Kate and Stella.
It was Morgan who had won the competition for the All-Stars. Issie had been so focused on riding the course and getting home with a clear round, that it wasn’t until now, back home again and on the ground, that she could fully comprehend the sacrifice that Morgan had made for her team out there in the arena.
Morgan was still riding the cross-country course just ahead of Issie when she heard the shouts from the crowd. Knowing how complicated the course layout was, Morgan had twigged straight away and realised that Issie must be lost. After that, it took her less than a split-second to decide what she had to do.
In that moment Morgan gave up her own chances of finishing the course. She had abandoned her own cross-country round and come back to help her teammate. It was because of this selfless act, and Morgan’s lightning-fast thinking, that Issie had won.
As the girl with the long dark hair rode back across the fields to join them, Issie and the others ran up meet her.
“Ohmygod! You totally saved me out there,” Issie said.
Morgan smiled a huge grin. “It was no big deal.”
“No big deal? You gave up your own chances of getting a clear round to come back and help me.”
“It made sense,” Morgan shrugged. “I knew I couldn’t win. I already had twelve faults from the showjumping, plus the time faults from the water jump. I had figured out that there was no way I could win it for the All-Stars, but I knew you could still do it.”
Issie was stunned. “But what if I hadn’t gone clear?”
“It was worth the risk,” Morgan said. “Besides, I was pretty sure you could ace it…”
“Morgan!”
The girls looked up to see Araminta Chatswood-Smith running towards them.
“Ohmygod,” Morgan muttered under her breath. “Mum is so gonna kill me for running out in the middle of a competition.”
“It’s OK,” Stella said. “We’ll all stand up for you. We’ll explain it to her. You did this for the team.”
But as it turned out, no explanations were required. Araminta had a huge smile on her face as she gave Morgan a tight, squeezy hug. “Genius!” she said. “I’m so proud of you!”
“For what?” Morgan said. “Giving up halfway through my round?”
“No, for thinking like a team player,” smiled Araminta. “That’s the smartest piece of riding that I’ve ever seen from you, Morgan. You saw the best way to help your team to win, and you took control and went for it. You were thinking like a real competitive rider. You put the good of the team ahead of yourself and it paid off. Great job!”
After Araminta had dished out more congratulations to Issie, Charlotte, Dee Dee and Kate for their winning rounds, there was the small matter of a very large trophy to receive. The All-Stars mounted up to receive the silver cup, and each of the eight riders also received a gold-trimmed sash, which flapped gaily around their horses’ necks as they cantered around the ring, taking their lap of honour.
Avery and Tara were the first to meet them as they left the arena.
“The All-Stars live up to their name!” Avery was grinning from ear to ear as the eight girls rode past. “Brilliant work, girls, just brilliant, all of you!”
Tara reached up and took the silver cup from Issie’s hands. “Well done, Isadora,” was all she said—and then the riders were unsaddling and preparing their horses once more, ready for the trucks and the two-hour drive back home to Havenfields.
The celebration dinner that night was pizza cooked in the outdoor pizza oven—with cake and ice cream for dessert. After that, the girls had a disco in Issie and Dee Dee’s bedroom, taking it in turns to pick songs on Dee Dee’s iPod.
“Just don’t play any Abba!” Dee Dee begged them. “I’ve been listening to it non-stop to practise for my dressage test and I think if I ever hear ‘Dancing Queen’ again, I will scream!”
Despite being thrilled with the win, Issie wasn’t much in the mood for partying. She had left the others in her bedroom and found herself in the kitchen helping Avery with the dishes instead.
“Are you OK?” he asked her. “For someone who’s just won the Young Rider Challenge you seem a little flat.”
“I’m fine,” Issie insisted.
“Well, you should be more than fine. You should be over the moon,” Avery said. “That was a truly spectacular piece of riding on the cross-country today.” He grinned at her. “OK, it was touch and go for a moment when you lost your track, but the way you handled Victory, taking the straight line through the water jump and bringing him home without time faults, well, I’ve never seen you ride quite that brilliantly before.”
“At least someone noticed,” Issie sighed.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Tara didn’t seem so impressed,” said Issie darkly.
“Didn’t she say anything to you after the event?”
“She said ‘well done’.”
“I see,” Avery said. “And you were hoping for something a bit more…fulsome…in terms of praise?”
“I’d be thrilled if she said one nice thing to me!” Issie groaned. “She never, ever seems happy with me. It’s like I can’t please her.”
“Tara is a perfectionist,” Avery said. “She didn’t win Lexington four times by being soft. She’s been asking you to step up your game. And to be honest,
I think it shows. Your riding has made huge strides in the past two weeks under her tuition. I think that sometimes I’m too soft on you. Tara doesn’t have that problem—she’ll push you to the limit.”
“How does she know she hasn’t pushed me past my limit?” Issie frowned.
“She knows exactly how much you are capable of. She’d heard a lot about you before she came here and she had high expectations of you,” Avery said.
“What do you mean she’d heard about me?”
“I told Tara about you.”
“What did you say?”
“That you’re the most gifted pupil I’ve ever taught—a natural rider with great instincts and the will to go all the way.”
Issie had never heard Avery talk about her like this before. It made her face flush with embarrassment.
“Why didn’t you tell me all this?”
“Because,” Avery sighed, “I thought if you knew that Tara had her eye on you, it would make you nervous.”
Issie was stunned. “So instead you left me in the dark, with her on my case for the past two weeks?”
“Tara’s an amazing teacher. And she’s a nice person too—once you get to know her.”
“How do you know Tara anyway?”
“Oh, I’ve known her for a very long time,” Avery said. “We used to compete against each other back in the day. We were rivals, I suppose—but in a good way.”
Issie went quiet for a moment and all that could be heard in the kitchen was the clanking of the pots and pans in the sink. This was her chance to ask Avery about Blainford. “Tara said that she wanted you to move to Kentucky and work at the Academy with her, but you said no.”
Avery focused on washing a particularly stubborn pot lid. “It’s true,” he said without looking up. “She offered me a job and I didn’t take it.”
“When was this?”
“About three years ago. I’d just moved back to New Zealand and bought Winterflood Farm. I had already started as the head instructor at Chevalier Point, and was doing my work for the International League for the Protection of Horses. I thought my old life on the eventing circuit was long gone…then Tara got in touch.”
“She wanted you to work for her?”
“With her. As associate coach of the eventing department.”
“So why didn’t you do it?”
“I had my reasons,” Avery said, “which I explained to Tara at the time. She accepted my decision, but I don’t think she entirely understood it. Nobody had turned down a position at Blainford before. It’s a very prestigious institution. The teachers there are the best in the world at what they do. It was a great honour to be asked.”
“So is she still angry with you?”
Avery smiled at her. “Tara isn’t like that. She’s one of the most supportive, generous people you’ll ever meet.”
“Are we talking about the same Tara?”
“We’re talking about the same Tara who gave you the best horse in the stable to ride,” Avery replied. “She put you on Victory, didn’t she?”
“I guess she did,” Issie had to agree.
“And you rode him brilliantly,” Avery said. “You proved you were ready for a real schoolmaster. I imagine it’ll be hard for you to say goodbye to him, won’t it? You and Victory have become quite the star partnership.”
It was true. Issie had been thinking about how tough it would be to leave Victory. She had grown so much as a rider with this new horse, and she felt like she really understood how to get the best out of him. But at least Victory would be going back to a home where his real owners loved him. There was someone she was even more worried about leaving behind. Poor Wombat!
The girls still hadn’t figured out what to do with the puppy when they left. Issie felt really bad about keeping the dog hidden from Avery up until now, but if she’d told him any earlier then he would have been forced to do the responsible thing and hand the dog over to Digger Murphy. Even now it was a big risk telling Tom, but as far as Issie could see, there was no choice. Hopefully, her instructor would understand and help them to solve the problem somehow.
“Tom, there’s something I need to…” she began, but then realised it would be easier to convince Avery if he had that sweet, adorable puppy face staring up at him.
“Wait here,” she told Avery. “I’ll be back in a minute. I have something that I need to show you.”
The moon was full in the sky above her as Issie walked towards the stables. She didn’t even need a torch and could see quite clearly as she walked down the driveway. When she reached the large wooden sliding door that led to the stables, Issie thought she heard something inside. She paused for a moment listening, and then she grabbed the handle of the sliding door, easing it open. As the door opened, there was a scream from inside the stables.
“No! Don’t! Shut the door!”
It was Dee Dee shouting, but her cries came too late. Before she had yelled out the warning, Issie had already slid open the door.
It all happened in a blur. Issie felt the jolt of something big and hard striking her at the knees, knocking her legs out from underneath her. She hadn’t been expecting the blow and she fell to the ground, shocked and confused as a silvery grey streak shot past her and bolted around the corner of the stable block.
“What’s going on? Dee Dee? What was that?” Issie clambered back up to her feet. But as she looked inside the stables and saw the open stall door and the look on Dee Dee’s face, she already knew the answer. The silvery streak that had knocked her down was Wombat. The dog was once again on the loose. But this time there would be no reprieve for the sheep-killer. This time Digger Murphy was out there waiting for him.
Chapter 15
Dee Dee looked like she was about to burst into tears. “I came down to feed him dinner and let him out of his stall,” she stammered. “I figured he couldn’t escape because the main door was shut. I was teaching him to beg when you arrived…”
“…and opened the door and let him out.” Issie finished Dee Dee’s sentence. “I didn’t know he was there, Dee Dee. I’m so sorry…”
“No, it’s my fault,” Dee Dee cut her off. “I should never have let him out when I was feeding him. I just wanted to play with him a bit, you know?”
“We’ve got to get him back,” Issie said. “If he’s gone after the sheep then Digger will be waiting for him.”
The pup had been moving fast as he bowled Issie over. He could already be halfway to the blackberry paddock by now—which meant there was no time to waste.
“Come on,” Issie said to Dee Dee as she ran for the tack room.
“What are you doing?” asked Dee Dee.
“Going after him,” Issie replied. She passed Dee Dee a bridle and grabbed Victory’s saddle off the sawhorse. “Help me tack up. I’m going to ride after Wombat and bring him back.”
“You can’t go out there by yourself! I’m coming with you,” Dee Dee said, reaching out for her bridle too.
“No.” Issie shook her head. “You can’t. One of us has to go back to the house and get help. You have to find Tom and Tara and explain everything. You must get them to come after me.”
“When they find out, they’ll kill you!”
“They’re not the ones I’m worried about,” Issie said darkly. “It’s Digger who has the gun.”
She threw the saddle over her arm and headed out of the door towards Victory’s stall.
The brown gelding was surprised to see the girls and even more surprised when Issie slid the saddle on his back, cinching up the girth in one deft move and sliding the stirrups down, ready for mounting.
Dee Dee was shaking and her fingers were as useless as a bunch of thumbs as she struggled to do up the buckles on the bridle.
“If I’d been this bad in the pit stop, we would never have won,” she joked weakly to Issie, who had to help her with the throat lash and cavesson.
Issie tightened her helmet strap and Dee Dee legged her up into the saddle. She was about to r
ide out of the stables when Dee Dee quickly passed Issie the lead rope that they’d been using to tie Wombat up with.
“Here,” she said. “When you find him, you’ll need this—to lead him home.”
“Thanks, roomie,” Issie smiled. Then she wheeled Victory around on his hocks and trotted out of the door.
Outside, the house was lit up like a beacon at the end of the driveway, but Issie didn’t ride towards it. She turned in the other direction instead, riding into the black emptiness of the open paddocks beyond the stables.
At that rear of the stables she stopped and yelled out Wombat’s name a few times, hoping the dog might still be near and would hear her voice and come running back, but there was no sign of him. Wombat’s hunting instincts would be leading him to the sheep in the blackberry paddock. The pup couldn’t know that Digger Murphy would be there waiting for him, patrolling the paddock and keeping an eye on his flock. If Wombat went anywhere near the sheep, he would be shot on sight.
Issie opened the gate to the blackberry paddock and rode Victory through. “Come on.” She tapped her ankles against the brown gelding’s sides. The horse had already galloped so hard for her today on the cross-country course and now she was asking even more of him.
Although she was galloping with the moonlight directly above her, Issie could only see the black outlines of the trees and make out murky shapes in the paddock around her. She knew that she would be relying on Victory to find their way to Wombat. Horses can see much better in the dark than people can.
Issie thought back to the times she had ridden like this in the pitch-black of the night with Mystic. She had always relied on the little grey gelding, trusting Mystic’s ability to find his way. She wished Mystic were here. She had kept on dreaming about her grey pony, but now that she really was in trouble, where was he?
