Flame and the Rebel Riders (7 page)

BOOK: Flame and the Rebel Riders
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“It’s got to be a mix of advanced horses and the new, young stock needing some experience,” Verity explained to Issie as she chalked up Ginty’s chosen list on the board in the tack room. “Not all of the horses in this stable are destined for greatness. Some of them will never amount to much, but if we can take them out and give them some showring experience and even win a few ribbons then they’ll be worth much more money when they are sold.”

Despite his ongoing problems with rushing the fences, Ginty had decided that Flame needed the competition experience and would be travelling to Sandilands.

“He’s young and green and he needs the outing,” Verity said. “He’ll be jumping in a couple of minor classes — not big fences.”

Tottie was also on the list. Issie had kept an eye on the mare ever since she had seen Verity riding her the previous week and she seemed to be quite sound. After
jumping her on Wednesday, Verity had taken her on a road ride on the Thursday, even trotting on the tarmac. By the time the chalkboard list was written up on the Friday, Ginty seemed to have no qualms about taking Tottie with them to Sandilands.

Issie’s other ride at Sandilands would be Quebec, a sweet-natured dun pony that she had been riding regularly for the past two weeks, who was a very clever jumper. Natasha was riding Tokyo and a green young pony named Baxter, and Penny was down to ride Sebastian and Vertigo.

That night, before she went home, Ginty called the girls together and gave Issie and Natasha a purple Dulmoth Park sweatshirt each, just like the ones Penny and Verity wore. “You’re part of the team,” she told them. “You have to look the part.”

“Big day tomorrow then!” Mrs Brown said as she dished up the fish pie for dinner that evening. “Are you excited?”

“I’m too nervous to eat!” Issie said. It was always a
bit funny the night before a competition, but this was worse than usual.

“The owner is going to be there tomorrow watching us,” Issie told her mum. As she said this she felt something damp pressing into her hand. Wombat, who had been curled up at Issie’s feet under the table, had stuck his snout in her lap and was nudging her with his moist nose. He usually sat in this position at mealtimes in the hope that Issie would smuggle him titbits from her plate. But it was hard to smuggle pieces of sloppy fish pie under the table, so tonight he was out of luck.

Mrs Brown was confused. “I thought Ginty was the owner?”

Issie had to explain to her mum how Cassandra Steele actually owned most of the horses at Dulmoth Park.

“She owns the two horses that I’ll be riding tomorrow — Flame and Quebec,” Issie said.

“So is this a big show?” Mrs Brown wanted to know. “Is that why the owner’s coming to watch? Do you want me to come along too?”

Issie shrugged. “You don’t have to. It’s an hour’s drive and it’s not a big event. Lots of the big-name riders will be there, though, because the competition points count
towards the accumulator for the Horse of the Year. The big show is the North Island champs at the end of next month.”

“Are Stella and Kate going to this show tomorrow?” Mrs Brown asked.

Issie shook her head. “They’ve got pony club.”

Mrs Brown reached across the table and forked a serving of salad on to her plate. “What about Tom?”

“He’ll be at pony club too,” Issie said. She was assuming this. She didn’t actually know for certain, because she hadn’t spoken to him since they’d had the fight about her going to work for Ginty.

“Well,” Mrs Brown said with a mischievous grin, “I suppose you’ll be hanging out with Natasha then.”

Issie groaned. “Thanks for that, Mum.”

Mrs Brown obviously thought it was funny that Issie had ended up being stuck with Natasha for the holidays. She had no idea just how bad things had got between the girls over the past fortnight. It was crazy — Issie should have been the one holding the grudge, since she’d had to give up the ride on Tokyo. But Natasha was still angry with Issie over the trouble she’d caused her father. Issie had exposed Mr Tucker’s underhand plans to build
luxury apartments next door to the golf club by taking over the lease on Chevalier Point Pony Club land. Thankfully his dodgy business deal had been thwarted. But it was an expensive blow for the property developer, and Natasha clearly blamed Issie for her father’s ongoing money worries.

Issie had steered clear of Stuck-up Tucker as much as she could. The two girls were on speaking terms, but only just. Natasha could barely bring herself to grunt hello most mornings.

At the stables it wasn’t a big deal because they were so busy working and riding the whole time. But on Saturday, it was a different matter. When Issie turned up at Dulmoth Park to load the horses on to the truck, she discovered that the senior grooms had already organised the seating arrangements. Verity and Penny had put themselves up the front in the cab with Ginty and left Issie in the back alone with Natasha and the horses.

Even with seven horses on board, the truck had loads of room inside. It was like a Tardis — somehow it was bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside. The horse stalls were totally space-age, with heavily
padded barriers and rubber matting. The rider’s area was plush too, with suede banquette seating that folded out into bunk beds for overnight trips, and a rather chic kitchen with a marble benchtop and a dining table. Issie and Natasha both took up positions on either end of one of the suede banquettes, with the dogs — Wombat, Jock and Angus — forming a canine barricade between them, as Ginty pulled the truck out on to the main road and headed for Sandilands.

The journey was one of the longest hours of Issie’s life. Natasha spent most of the time pointedly ignoring Issie and texting on her hot-pink mobile phone, reading back the messages to herself and giggling as if they were hysterically funny. After about half an hour of this, however, she seemed to get bored with her texts and turned to Issie instead.

“It’s pony club today, isn’t it?” she asked, already knowing the answer to her own question. “I’m surprised Avery has let you take the day off to go showjumping.”

“I didn’t tell him…” Issie began and instantly regretted it. She didn’t want to talk to Natasha about this.

“What?” Natasha’s ears pricked up. “He doesn’t know
you’re not going to be at his little rally? Or he doesn’t know that you’re going showjumping with us?”

“Both,” Issie said.

“Well, I can’t imagine he’ll be very pleased when he finds out,” Natasha said smugly. “His star pupil abandoning him like that.”

“I’m not,” Issie said. “I mean, I don’t have a choice. This is my job.”

“Yeah, right. Like you didn’t have a choice about ruining my father’s property development,” Natasha shot back.

In a way, Issie had been waiting for Natasha to bring this up. She knew that the bratty blonde had been festering over this ever since the Golden Trophy.

“Verity told me that you have to work at Ginty’s because of your dad’s money problems,” Issie began.

“My dad wouldn’t have money problems if it wasn’t for you!” Natasha’s eyes went red and it looked like she was going to cry. “He’d be furious if he knew I was even speaking to you. And Verity shouldn’t be talking about my family’s business to anyone either!”

“She wasn’t gossiping,” Issie insisted. “Honestly, Natasha. I’m really sorry about what happened to your
dad. I know you must hate having to work with me. But as long as we’re stuck together, we might as well try and get along. I’d like to try and be friends.”

It was a heartfelt plea, but it seemed like it fell on deaf ears. Natasha ignored her and went back to sending texts once more. Issie sighed. At least she’d tried.

There was silence in the truck for a while longer and then Natasha giggled again at another text. This time, though, she handed the phone over to Issie. There, on the screen, was a joke.

Q: What do you call a horse who lives next door?

A: A neigh-bour!

Issie laughed. “That’s so cheesy!”

Natasha gave a slight smile. “There are some other ones I’ve been sent that are much funnier — here, I’ll show you…”

By the time Ginty pulled up at the showgrounds twenty minutes later, there had been a distinct thawing in relations between Issie and Natasha. It wasn’t like they were suddenly besties, but at least they were now on speaking terms. Natasha even helped to untie Quebec and led him down the ramp while Issie managed Tokyo and Flame.

The girls tied the horses up to the side of the truck and then Issie ran back up the ramp to help Verity and Penny organise the grooming kit.

“It’s pretty here, isn’t it? They’re really lovely grounds,” Issie said, looking out over the green fields of Sandilands to the bush-clad hills that surrounded the arenas.

“Yeah, real scenic,” Verity said sarcastically. “Remind me to get it listed as an area of natural beauty. Can you hurry up and finish undoing their floating boots? I need you to go and get some water too, Tottie’s managed to get poo all through her tail.”

Issie quickly realised that travelling with the Dulmoth Park team wasn’t like going away to a show with Stella and Kate. Penny and Verity had been on the road for so many seasons they seemed bored by the whole showjumping business. Ginty, meanwhile, had completely disappeared as soon as she parked the truck.

“She’s gone to meet Cassandra,” Verity said. “We’d better have everything ready by the time they come back.” She turned to Issie and handed her a bucket. “Can you go find a tap and fill this? Then get some
Manes ‘n’ Tails shampoo out of the kit and wash that dung out of Tottie’s tail.”

Wombat, Jock and Angus bounded along together beside Issie on the walk to the water tap. Since Issie had started taking Wombat with her to work each day the three dogs had become firm friends. Even though Wombat was the biggest by far, little Jock was clearly the leader of the pack, and he was the one that stuck closest to Issie as they stood in the queue waiting for their turn at the tap. It seemed like everyone else at Sandilands needed water that morning too. There was a huge queue and only one water faucet! Issie had to wait her turn as the riders in front of her put their buckets underneath the nozzle and waited for the steady trickle to fill up their containers. The tap was really slow and it seemed to be taking forever.

Issie had finally reached the front of the line when another rider suddenly swooped in, jumping the queue ahead of Issie, with two really big buckets. After waiting patiently for so long, this was the final straw.

“Hey!” Issie said, reaching out and tapping the other rider on the shoulder. “Hey, you! You’re pushing in. It’s my turn!”

“I tell you what,” the boy responded without turning round, “I’ll let you go ahead of me if you give me a kiss.”

Issie was flabbergasted! Did he really just say that?

“Wow. I finally managed to say something that shut you up for once!” The boy laughed as he turned round to face her. He had jet-black hair with a long fringe that he casually pushed back off his face to reveal startling pale blue eyes.

“Hello, Issie,” he said softly, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Issie found herself suddenly unable to breathe. She couldn’t believe it. It was Aidan.

Chapter 7

It had been nearly four months since Issie had broken up with Aidan, but she still often found herself thinking about him, wondering how he was and what he was doing.

She had first met the dark-haired boy with magnetic blue eyes two summers ago at her Aunt Hester’s Blackthorn Farm in Gisborne. Aidan worked for Hester as her stable manager. He and Issie had become good friends straight away, but it wasn’t until the next summer, when she went back to help Hester with the riding school at the farm, that they finally got together. She remembered how romantic it was the day he kissed her in front of everyone on the lawn underneath the cherry tree.

In the end, their relationship had proved impossible — with Aidan living and working at the farm and Issie a six-hour drive away at Chevalier Point, they never saw each other and Issie decided it was fairer on both of them if she ended it. She had regrets about her decision even then, and now as she looked at Aidan, so handsome in his crisp white jodhpurs and pale blue shirt, she found it hard to imagine how she could ever have broken up with him.

“What…what are you doing here?” Issie finally managed to get a sentence out.

Aidan grinned. “The same as you, I guess — riding.”

“Is Aunty Hess here too?”

Aidan shook his head. “She’s back at the farm. She’s completely wrapped up in training. She needs to get Diablo and Titan ready for a new movie that starts filming in a couple of weeks.”

Hester ran a company called the Daredevil Ponies and her movie stunt horses were renowned as the best in the business.

“So why aren’t you with Aunty Hess?”

“She doesn’t need me until filming begins. She can handle training Diablo and Titan on her own. Besides,
we sold two more young Blackthorn Ponies to Araminta recently, and Hester thought it would be good if I stayed with the horses to settle them in. I’m going to be working with Araminta at her stables for a couple of weeks,” Aidan explained.

Blackthorn Ponies were a wild breed that roamed the hills around Gisborne. They weren’t big horses — most of them averaged about fourteen hands — but they were excellent jumpers. In fact they were so good that Hester, Issie and Aidan had gone into business together, schooling Blackthorn Ponies to be sold as showjumpers. Several Blackthorns had been schooled up by Aidan and Issie and were already being ridden competitively on the showjumping circuit.

Issie’s own pony, Comet, was a Blackthorn, and Araminta Chatswood-Smith had several of them in her substantial stable of showjumpers — including the piebald pony, Fortune. It was Issie who had been responsible for Fortune’s schooling and she’d been looking forward to seeing him again on the showjumping circuit. However, she hadn’t expected to see Aidan too.

Aidan took Issie’s empty bucket and began to fill it up for her.

“This is so typical of you!” Issie said. She found herself getting flustered. Having Aidan turn up out of the blue had totally thrown her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here?”

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