Flame and the Rebel Riders (16 page)

“And now come through once more, this time at a trot,” Avery instructed.

Issie asked Flame to trot on, and this time she had the reins loose and her hands all the way back at the buckle as the horse approached the pole. At the last minute, though, Flame speeded up and bolted the jump again!

“You flinched,” was Avery’s assessment as Issie brought the horse back to try once more. “This time, keep your hands at the buckle and do not move your body in the saddle at all. Just let him keep trotting as
if the jump isn’t there. Don’t look for a stride, let the fence come to you.”

It was hard to keep still and not flinch Issie realised, especially when you expect your horse to bolt at any moment. But she did as Avery said, steeling her nerve and keeping in the same position, her reins loose as she rode at the pole. This time as Flame turned to confront the pole, he remained at a calm trot — no mad gallops or wild crab-steps. They had done it! Flame was behaving like a normal horse!

“Well done, boy!” Issie was beaming as she gave him a slappy pat on his glossy neck.

“Yes, very good. I think that’s enough for today,” Avery said. “You can get off him now. Go untack him and give him his feed.”

“You’re kidding!” Issie said. “That’s it?”

“I’m quite serious,” Avery responded. “We’ve just ended our lesson on a good note.”

“But we’re hardly going to win the North Island show by trotting over a pole!”

“Better trotting over it than crashing into it,” Avery said wryly. “Come on, let’s settle him into his stall and then you can give him a good grooming.”

For the rest of the week, the jump stands continued to remain dormant on the side of the arena as Avery’s training sessions involved nothing more than poles lying on the ground.

At first, Flame would start every lesson back at square one. His ingrained instincts from those days at Ginty’s stables were so strong that he’d take one look at the poles before panicking and trying to rush them. Avery would instruct Issie to sit back and relax, and keep her reins loose. It wasn’t easy letting the reins loose on a mad horse who wanted to bolt, but Issie would do as he said and once Flame understood that the poles were nothing to get worked up over, he would settle down until pretty soon they were trotting around the arena in a steady rhythm.

By Friday, they were cantering the poles and Issie was thrilled when Flame kept a lovely regular pace around the arena.

“He’s made excellent progress,” Avery said as they led him back to the stables that evening.

“Yeah,” Issie said, unable to keep her sarcasm in check, “if there’s a competition at the North Island show for jumping over poles on the ground then we’ll totally ace it.”

Avery sighed. “I thought I’d explained it to you already, Issie. It’s not about the size of the jump. It’s about developing the horse’s mind so that he feels secure in the arena.”

“How do we know how he’ll feel when the jumps do get to a proper size, though?” Issie asked.

“Let’s find out,” Avery said. “We’ll take Flame to the pony-club rally with us tomorrow.”

Stella and Kate were both at the pony-club rally that day, and when Issie told them about Avery’s training, and how she’d spent the past week trotting over poles on the ground, they couldn’t stop laughing.

“I’m sorry, Issie,” Stella said wiping her eyes, “but it just seems like a bit of a come-down, doesn’t it? One minute you’re off at a professional stable jumping over huge fences and the next you’re at Avery’s house again trotting over poles like being back at kindergarten!”

Issie took their laughter with good humour. She didn’t even mind when Stella and Kate told Dan and Ben about her trotting pole sessions and they joined in
on the joke. Dan even laid his whip down on the ground and dared Issie to leap over it. “If it’s not too high for you,” he added before bursting into fits of giggles.

Things got more serious, however, when the senior ride headed up to the jumping arena after lunch. Avery set the fences at one metre. It was a short course, but there were some tricky combinations, including a double with a bounce stride in between the jumps and a very wide oxer to finish. As Dan, Ben, Stella and Kate all took their turns around the course, Issie sat and watched. When it was her turn, Avery called her over for a few last-minute words of advice.

“How does Flame feel?” Avery asked.

“He’s been great all morning,” Issie said. “He was lovely to ride with the other horses in the dressage training. He’s been a superstar so far.”

“Excellent,” Avery agreed. “Now here is what I want you to do, Issie. I want you to take him into the showjumping ring, and ride him around the same course that the others have just done. Keep him at a steady working canter…” Avery looked at her, “…but don’t go over any of the jumps.”

“What?” Issie was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Just ride around in between and near the fences, to make him think he’s going to be jumping. But don’t actually jump. Give him a steady canter around for a couple of rounds and then we’ll finish up for the day.”

“You mean he’s not going to jump at all?” Issie groaned. “Ohmygod, Tom! This is worse than the poles on the ground!”

“Issie, today is a vital part of Flame’s rehabilitation,” Avery said. “You need to think about the jumps here at the pony club as nothing more than an extension of his lessons at home. It’s all part of the training, Issie. Even the competitions are nothing more than fancy schooling sessions with prizes. Don’t ever lose sight of that.”

Issie seemed to accept this, but she still had a question. “How is he ever going to learn to jump if I never do any jumping?”

“Flame already knows how to jump,” Avery told her. “What he needs to learn is how to control his stress, to stay calm when he’s confronted with jumps. I want him to canter around that show ring without having to jump a thing, so he can figure out for himself that there’s nothing scary about showjumps.”

Issie looked over at Stella, Kate, Dan and Ben sitting
on their ponies on the sideline waiting to watch her take her turn.

“Taking big jumps might impress your friends,” Avery agreed, “but that’s not what Flame needs.”

Issie nodded. “I understand, Tom.” She smiled. “We’re ready to do our round now.”

Flame cantered around the jumps beautifully and Issie concentrated on staying steady and still in two-point position as she rode past the jumps without taking a single one of them. She had to laugh as she left the arena that day and saw the puzzled expressions on her friends’ faces.

“Well,” Dan teased, “I suppose technically you just got a clear round in there. You didn’t stop and you didn’t knock down a single rail.”

Avery, however, was genuinely happy with her progress. “Nice round,” the instructor told her. “He went perfectly.”

Issie had hoped that Avery’s praise for Flame’s performance at the pony-club rally would translate to some actual jumps when they were back at Winterflood Farm the next day. But no. Once again, Avery asked her to school the big chestnut over poles on the ground. It
was the same on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. The North Island show was on Sunday and by Saturday Issie couldn’t control the urge any longer. She finally asked Avery if there was any chance at all that they might actually be doing some real jumps at training today.

“Oh,” Avery replied airily, “I don’t think we want to overface him the day before the big show, do you?” He smiled at Issie. “Just take him for a gentle hack today. No point in being in the arena—he’s learnt everything he needs to know.”

“You can’t be serious!” Issie was stunned. “We’re competing tomorrow! We haven’t jumped a single jump.”

“I’m totally serious,” Avery replied. “You and Flame are ready to win. And tomorrow—you’re going to prove it.”

Flame looked every inch a champion when Issie unloaded him from the horse truck on the morning of the North Island Championships. With his mane plaited and his coat buffed to a deep copper shine the chestnut gelding certainly had an air of winning glamour about him.

The horse looked brilliant, but it was what was underneath the surface that had Issie worried. Flame was still unproven. In the past two weeks under Avery’s tuition Flame hadn’t jumped a single fence. Issie couldn’t help but be concerned that their reschooling efforts so far had amounted to nothing more than poles on the ground. Hardly adequate preparation for the level
of competition they would encounter at the showgrounds today!

Issie felt the knot of nerves in her tummy tighten as she looked over at the main arena. Avery had entered Flame in the one metre qualifier class. This was the final chance for Flame to be graded and continue in the competitions this season. More importantly than that, however, Cassandra Steele would be in the stands. Avery had spoken to Flame’s owner on the phone last night and she had made it quite clear that she would be watching them today to assess his progress.

“Nervous?” Avery asked as he emerged from the horse truck.

“A little,” Issie had to admit.

“Don’t be,” Avery said firmly. “Flame went brilliantly at the rally the other day. He’s ready for this.”

Issie boggled at Avery’s confidence. “Tom! All he did at pony club was canter around a bit! We didn’t jump a single fence, and those fences out there are a metre high!”

Avery brushed aside Issie’s concerns. “He’ll be fine. Just get him nicely balanced, responsive and calm, and trust me, the jumping won’t be an issue.”

Issie shook her head in disbelief, but it was clear that
there was no point in arguing. She had to have faith that Avery knew what he was doing. And so she continued to groom the horse while Avery busied himself doing up the buckles on Flame’s tendon boots and pulling on his bellboots.

“That’s a lot of bandaging you’re doing,” Issie observed as she watched Avery move on to the hind legs and use gamgee and gauze to wrap the tendons at the back.

“Flame needs protection on his legs,” Avery said. “We don’t want him getting spooked if he bangs a rail.”

As Avery finished the leg bandages, Issie tightened the girth one more hole on the Pessoa saddle. “Shall I put the hackamore on now?” she asked.

Avery shook his head. “Leave the halter on for now and give him a hay net to keep him occupied while we walk the course,” he told her. “We’ve got ages before the competition begins.”

It was busy in the arena during the course-walk session. There were around twenty riders in Issie’s class that day,
and most of them were in the arena checking out the jumps and learning the course off by heart.

Issie loved walking a jumping course with Avery. She was amazed at the difference it made to see the jumps through his eyes. This time, Avery particularly focused on a combination fence with two elements that he clearly thought would cause problems for the competitors.

“You must make sure you come in with a very straight line right down the centre and push on hard in order to get two strides in…”

“Well,” a voice behind them said, “I must say it’s nice to see you two back together again!”

Issie turned around to see Araminta, Aidan and Morgan, all dressed in their competition shirts and their best white jods.

Araminta smiled. “You know, everyone on the circuit is gossiping about it. I hear that Cassandra Steele handed over one of her best horses to you, Tom. I’ll bet Ginty’s absolutely fuming!” Araminta looked amused by this. It was pretty clear that she wasn’t a member of the Ginty McLintoch fan club either.

Standing next to Araminta, Aidan looked distinctly uncomfortable. While Araminta and Avery were talking
he sidled over to Issie and whispered to her. “Can I talk to you for a moment? Alone?”

They walked away from the others, but riders kept jostling past them. The middle of a showjumping ring wasn’t exactly the most private place to have a deep and meaningful conversation. “Maybe we should talk later?” Issie said.

“No, I’ve something to say and it can’t wait,” Aidan replied. “I feel awful about our fight, and the things I said to you the other day…I want to say that I’m—”

“No!” Issie said to him. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry. You were right, Aidan. I was being a bad friend—not just to Stella and Kate, but to you too. I made a big mistake trusting Ginty, but I want you to know that I’ve sorted it out now. Things are back to normal again.”

“I can see that,” Aidan smiled. “I just wanted to let you know that no matter what happens, I’m always there for you, OK?”

Issie smiled. “Thanks.”

“Issie!” Avery shouted out to her. “Stop dawdling. We’ve got a course to walk! There’ll be time to chat to your boyfriend later!”

Mortified with embarrassment, Issie blushed. “I don’t
think that you’re my boyfriend,” she told Aidan. “I don’t know why Tom said that.”

Aidan gave her one of his killer smiles. “Well, I guess I was your boyfriend once upon a time. And I suppose…I could be again. That is, if you wanted me to be.”

Issie felt her heart beating like mad. “Aidan, please…not now. I can’t think about whether I want to be your girlfriend today. Not with the competition and everything that’s going on.”

“I know,” Aidan nodded. “We’ll talk later, OK? Maybe go for a ride together?”

Issie smiled. “That would be really great.”

As she walked back to the horse truck with Avery, Issie felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Now that she and Aidan were friends again, Issie could totally focus on the competition ahead of her. For the first time she actually found herself starting to feel excited at the prospect of riding Flame. It was less than an hour to the first event. As they were walking past the main arena, though, she had a moment of doubt when she caught sight of the familiar silver and gold logo of the Dulmoth Park horse truck.

“Ginty’s here,” Issie said. “She’s parked just over there by the main arena.”

“I know,” Avery said with an unconcerned air. “I saw the truck when she arrived. The good news is it looks like she’s only got two horses here today—Tokyo and Tottie. And neither of them will be entered against you—they’re both in the next class.”

However, Avery’s confident demeanour didn’t last. He returned from the judges’ tent a few minutes later holding a piece of paper, positively fuming.