Fortune and the Golden Trophy (2 page)

Issie didn’t know whether to feel angry or relieved as she watched the pony lumber to its feet in a rather ungainly fashion. The gelding shook out his mane and looked at her with a dopey, heavy-lidded expression on his face.

Issie stared as the piebald began to graze just a few metres in front of her. He was about the same size as Blaze, maybe fourteen-two hands. It was hard to be sure though because he wasn’t shaped like Blaze in the slightest. He was a tubby pony. Clearly, the only thing he really liked as much as sleeping was eating. He was a true piebald, covered in big black and white splodges, with chunky white streaks through his black mane. He had a white muzzle and a star on his forehead which radiated out so that his whole face was sprinkled with white hairs in a salt-and-pepper effect.

It was a bit of an ugly face, Issie assessed clinically, slightly too large and out of proportion with his body,
and with a Roman nose to boot. As far as Issie could tell with his rug on, the pony seemed to have decent enough conformation, apart from being overweight, but he was certainly no oil painting.

Even now that he was awake the piebald didn’t seem particularly alert. He cast a vacant glance at Blaze, showing a complete lack of interest in the mare. He displayed even less interest in Issie who was still standing there, slack-jawed and staring at him. The piebald gave what looked like a yawn, then turned his rump on them both, lowered his head and ambled off.

Issie was gobsmacked. She had never seen anything like it. Horses hardly ever lay down to sleep. They certainly didn’t snore. And she’d never met a horse who wasn’t in the least bit curious to meet another new horse before.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re OK,” Issie said. She was talking to herself though because the piebald wasn’t listening. He was grazing away and resolutely ignoring her. “You are one kooky little piebald.” Issie shook her head. “Whoever owns you has got their hands full.”

She didn’t realise how right she was.

Issie poked about in the tack shed, hoping to find some clue as to who owned the piebald in the paddock, but he remained a mystery. However, there was a saddle that looked about the right size for him and a bridle too. She also noticed that Coco’s tack was missing. It was possible that Stella had taken it home to clean, but that was unlikely. Stella hardly
ever
cleaned her tack and was frequently being told off by Tom Avery for having sloppy turn-out on rally days.

Issie hung up Blaze’s bridle and put the mare’s saddle and numnah on top of a sawhorse. Then she headed for the back corner of the shed. Next to a big pile of winter rugs, right where she had left it, was her bike. She wheeled it out with Blaze’s rug over the handlebars, then
put the rug on her pony, gave her a carrot and slipped her halter off. Blaze trotted over to join Comet and Toby. There were a few snorts and ears back before the three of them remembered that they were best friends and trotted away happily together.

The piebald, meanwhile, was lying down and snoring once more. Issie shook her head in amazement, wheeled her bike out to the road, padlocked the gates behind her and set off for home.

Issie hoped that her mother would be there when she got back. She was desperate to tell someone about the mysterious arrival of the strange pony in the paddock.

“Mum?” Issie called as she shucked off her riding boots at the front door. “I’m back! Are you home?”

“We’re in here!” Mrs Brown called back. “In the kitchen.”

We’re
in here? What did that mean? Who was there?

Issie walked down the hall to the kitchen. Mrs Brown was at the kitchen worktop, pouring hot water from the kettle into the teapot. Standing beside her, putting some chocolate biscuits on a plate, was a boy who looked a couple of years older than Issie. He had black hair and
his fringe, which was far too long, fell over his face as he turned around. He pushed the fringe back carelessly with his hand revealing a pair of penetrating blue eyes. He looked almost unbearably handsome and Issie felt her heart leap. The last time she had seen this boy he had been kissing her goodbye on the front lawn of Blackthorn Farm.

“Aidan!” Issie couldn’t believe it. “Ohmygod!”

There was no chance of kissing Aidan now, even if he was supposed to officially be her boyfriend, because her mum was standing there staring at them both. And besides, even if her mum hadn’t been there, Issie thought, Aidan was acting kind of odd. She would have expected him to come up and at least give her a hug, but he was being all cool, sort of distant and aloof.

“So,” he said, hiding his eyes under his fringe, acting casual in a really awkward way, “how have you been? How was the trip back from Spain?”

“Good,” said Issie, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “I sent you a postcard. Didn’t you get it?”

“Yeah,” Aidan said, “I got it. Why didn’t you call me? I thought you’d call me when you got back…”

“I was going to,” Issie said, “but I’ve only been back for, like, a day.”

“Sure,” Aidan said, “you’ve been busy. I understand…” But he didn’t look like he understood at all; in fact, he looked rather put out.

“What are you doing here anyway?” asked Issie.

Mrs Brown put down the teapot and placed her hands on her hips. “See? I told you!” she said to Aidan. “Issie had no idea you were coming either. Oh, this is so typical of Hester!”

Issie didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Mum?”

Mrs Brown shook her head. “It appears that your Aunt Hester had another one of her genius plans that she forgot to tell us about. She’s sent poor Aidan here out of the blue. He was just explaining it to me when you arrived.”

“Aidan?” Issie was still confused. “What’s going on?”

“Ummm,” Aidan began, “there seems to have been a bit of a miscommunication. I thought you and your mum were expecting me. Didn’t you get the email that Hester sent you?”

Issie shook her head. “I only got back from Spain yesterday. I haven’t checked my emails for days.”

“Oh,” Aidan said, “so I guess you got a bit of a shock finding the piebald at the River Paddock?”

“Totally!” Issie said. “How did you know? I turn up at the paddock, Coco is missing and instead there’s this crazy piebald lying on the ground fast asleep, snoring like a train.”

“I don’t have a clue about the Coco part,” Aidan said, “but I can explain the piebald. I drove him up from Blackthorn Farm in the horse truck this morning and dropped him off at the paddock.”

“But why is he in the River Paddock?” Issie was still confused. “Who does he belong to?”

Aidan groaned. “That’s the thing…Hester was supposed to tell you…I thought you already knew.” He paused. “Issie, I don’t know how to say this, but…” Aidan winced, “he’s yours. I brought him here for you.”

By the time Issie was on to her third chocolate biscuit, she had managed to make sense of Aidan’s explanation.

It appeared that Issie’s lovely but utterly mad Aunty Hester was in trouble yet again. The last time Issie had visited Blackthorn Farm, a rambling old country manor high up in the hills near Gisborne, she had been helping Hester out of a tight spot. Her aunt ran the Daredevil Ponies, a troupe of stunt horses who were the best in the
movie business. When film work had suddenly dried up earlier in the year Hester hit hard times and was on the brink of selling Blackthorn Farm and her menagerie of four-legged movie stars.

Luckily for Hester, Issie and Aidan, her farm manager, had come to the rescue. They both entered the Horse of the Year Show—Issie on Comet and Aidan on Destiny—and between them they won enough prize money to help Hester save the farm. Hester had been so grateful she had made the two of them her business partners.

It turned out that Comet had put in such a superstar performance at the Horse of the Year that Hester’s ponies subsequently became hot property on the showjumping circuit. Every showjumping rider in the country wanted a Blackthorn Pony in their stable and they were prepared to pay big money for them. Hester and Aidan suddenly found themselves with a lucrative business on their hands, schooling up and selling Blackthorn Ponies.

“Hester and I have been really busy training half a dozen up-and-coming young jumpers,” Aidan told Issie. “We’d planned to sell them at the end of the season. Everything was going really well until that movie, the same one that was cancelled earlier in the year, suddenly sprang back to life. Now it’s all on again and filming starts in two weeks.”

“I know. You emailed me about it in Spain. But that’s brilliant news, isn’t it?” Issie asked.

“Yes—and no,” said Aidan. “Hester has been working like crazy behind the scenes, trying to get the stunt horses ready in time for the cameras. She doesn’t have any time right now for the farm and it will only get worse when filming begins. I’ve been left behind to look after the Blackthorn Ponies. Some of them are at a crucial stage in their schooling, plus I’m snowed under with farm work. I was beginning to panic that I wouldn’t be able to cope, and that was when Hester decided we needed to involve you.”

“Me?” Issie squeaked nervously.

“Yeah, well, you are a partner in the business.” Aidan smiled. “So Hester had the idea of bringing a few of the young horses up to Chevalier Point for training.”

“A few? You mean there’s more of them?” squeaked Issie again.

“Uh-huh. I brought three of them with me in the horse truck. You’ve met the piebald. The other two are a chestnut and a dark brown—Jasper and Marmite. Both of them need loads of work too.”

Aidan grinned at the look of horror on Issie’s face. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask you to look after them
as well. You’ll have your hands full with the piebald. I’ve asked Tom if he’ll take care of the other two. I’ve just taken them to Winterflood Farm.”

“Is that where your horse truck is?” Issie realised that she hadn’t seen it parked outside when she arrived.

“Uh-huh. I’m going back there shortly to help him settle them in, but I thought I’d better come here and see you first to explain about the piebald.”

“What’s up with that pony? He’s totally kooky,” Issie said.

“He’s a Blackthorn Pony, born and bred,” Aidan said. “So I figure he’s got a huge jump buried in him somewhere, but I really haven’t had the chance to do any schooling on him yet. He’s been broken in, but apart from that he’s just been turned out for two seasons now. I’ve only ridden him a few times in the past six months. I got on him for the first time in ages last week. I thought I’d better try him before bringing him here. Anyway, I thought he’d be all fizzy after not being ridden for so long, but he just about fell asleep under me. The only thing he loves, as far as I can tell, is sleeping.”

“I noticed!” Issie said.

“He’s kinda…quirky,” continued Aidan, “but he’s got no vices. He doesn’t buck or rear or anything, he’s just,
well…you’ll see…he’s a bit of a…character. He needs someone like you, Issie. Someone who can focus on him and bring out the best.”

“But I already have Blaze and Comet! How can I focus on him when I have two other horses I’m supposed to be riding?” Issie protested.

“I’m working six horses a day at the moment,” Aidan pointed out. “I’m only asking you to manage with three.”

“Yes, but that’s your job!” Issie objected. “I’ve got school to worry about.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Mrs Brown said wryly as she reached between Issie and Aidan to restock the chocolate biscuit plate. “I’ve never noticed you being particularly concerned about your horses getting in the way of school work before, Isadora. You
have
grown up since you got back from Spain!”

Her mother’s sarcasm was not lost on her, but Issie decided to ignore it. “I’ve got exams this term,” she continued. “It’s different. And looking after three horses is a lot harder than two.”

Aidan’s smile faded. “Issie, I wouldn’t be asking you to do this unless it was important. Hester has only just got the farm back on its feet again. You and I are her business partners now and she needs us to pitch in. Maybe by
next season, when things have improved, she can hire another stable hand to help out with the training, but until then she’s relying on you.”

Aidan brushed his dark fringe back and looked into Issie’s eyes. She remembered the last time he had stared at her like that. It was just before his lips had touched hers, on the lawn under the cherry trees.

She remembered feeling as if her knees were going to buckle beneath her as she stood there that day. Now, when Aidan smiled at her, she felt herself going weak all over again. “Come on, Issie, what do you say? It’s just one horse. How much trouble can he be?”

Issie sighed. Aidan made it impossible to say no. Still, she had a feeling she was going to regret this.

“What exactly does Hester want me to do with him?”

“Compete on him,” said Aidan. “Right now that piebald isn’t worth a lot because he doesn’t have enough experience. But if you could ride him for the next few months and win a few ribbons or maybe even some trophies with him on the gymkhana circuit then he’d be worth a whole lot more.”

“You want me to take him on the show circuit and win championship ribbons?” Issie was stunned. “Aidan! Have you
seen
the state of him?”

Aidan gave her a cheeky grin. “What’s the matter, Issie? Are you saying that you’re only a good rider if you’ve got a fancy horse like Blaze underneath you to rely on? If the piebald is too tough for you to handle…”

“I didn’t mean that!” Issie cut him off. “All right,” she sighed, “I’ll do my best with him, but you’ve seen what he’s like—I’m not a miracle worker! I’ll try, but tell Aunty Hess that I’m not making her any promises.”

“Great!” Aidan said with obvious relief. Then he looked at his watch. “Listen, I hate to do this, but I have to go. I promised Tom I would help with the horses. And after that I need to head straight back to Blackthorn Farm.”

Issie’s heart sank. “Really? You can’t stay?”

Aidan shook his head. “No. I’m only here for the day. I can’t leave the horses and the other animals at Blackthorn overnight without anyone there to feed and check on them. I’ll try and make it back through soon though—maybe next week?”