Fortune and the Golden Trophy (13 page)

BOOK: Fortune and the Golden Trophy
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“I know,” he said softly, “you’re right. I’ve been thinking the same thing…” He looked at Issie, his blue eyes full of sorrow. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do.”

Issie nodded tearfully. “I wish you could just stay in Chevalier Point.”

“Me too,” Aidan said, “but I can’t.” He looked ahead at the road, unable to bring himself to look back at Issie’s teary eyes. “The gymkhana is next Saturday,” he said. “The auction is the weekend after that. I can’t stay around any longer. When I sell the horses there’s nothing to keep me here any more. After that…” he fought to get the words out, “…after that, I’ll be gone. I have to go back to Blackthorn Farm.”

Chapter 15

As the riders mounted up for the first event of the gymkhana, Stella was in a blind panic. “Has anybody got any hoof oil?” she squeaked. “I forgot mine and Marmite’s hooves look terrible!”

“Check in the tack chest in the truck,” Kate yelled back at her. She was busy rubbing baby oil over Toby’s nose to make his dark muzzle shiny. Issie, meanwhile, was frantically spraying hairspray on a rag and wiping the plaits on Fortune’s neck to tidy up any stray hairs.

“OK!” Stella jumped back and gazed at Marmite’s shiny hooves with evident satisfaction. “He’s done. They look great. Let’s go!”

The Best Groomed and Turned-out was the first event of the day and the girls had been working like crazy right
up to the very last minute to get their ponies perfectly preened. They lined up nervously in the ring, hoping they hadn’t forgotten anything obvious or important as Judge Marjory Allwell surveyed the horses.

Judge Marjory was nervous too. She was still recovering from the dressage day at Chevalier Point when that madman had leapt into the ring and that awful father tried to bribe her! The pony-club committee had to do some sweet-talking to convince her to come back.
Well
, she thought to herself as she walked down the row of riders in their hacking jackets, sitting perfectly still for inspection,
what could possibly go wrong at a gymkhana?

Judge Marjory stopped in front of a girl on a magnificent chestnut gelding. The horse stood out above all the rest. He was groomed to perfection. Marjory noted that it happened to be the same girl and horse that had won the dressage class that she had judged the last time she was here.

“What is your name, dear?” Judge Marjory asked.

“Natasha Tucker,” the girl answered.

“Well, Natasha,” Marjory said, “you’ve done a wonderful job on this horse. Would you mind riding forward a few paces and standing in front of the others so I can get a better look at you?”

Natasha rode Romeo forward and halted square in front of the judge. Marjory Allwell had judged Best Turned-out classes many times and she knew how to thoroughly check over a horse and rider. She looked under the saddle flaps of Natasha’s spotless saddle to make sure there was no dirt where the girth buckled up. Then she peered closely at the undersides of Natasha’s spit-polished boots to make sure they were clean.

Marjory then worked her way around Romeo, checking on his mane plaits, noting with satisfaction that they were sewn into place with a needle and thread the old-fashioned way, instead of being done quickly with rubber bands. She ran a hand over the gelding’s gleaming copper coat to check for dust and admired the slick chequerboard pattern that had been stencilled on to his rump. His tail was the classic show-hack presentation too, plaited neatly at the top, and his hooves were blacked and oiled. There wasn’t a single hair out of place on this horse—he was a clear winner here in the senior ring today.

“Your horse is very nicely turned out,” Marjory Allwell told Natasha. “What sort of thread did you use to sew these plaits in?”

Natasha looked at her blankly. “I don’t know,” she said.

Judge Marjory was taken aback. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “And what did you use on his hooves?”

“Ummm, I washed them?” said Natasha hopefully.

Marjory Allwell smelt a rat. “Miss Tucker, did you actually sew these plaits?”

“Not exactly…”

The judge raised an eyebrow. “And did you oil and black his hooves?”

“Not really…”

Judge Marjory’s face darkened. “Did you do any of the grooming on this horse at all?”

Natasha shook her head. “I keep Romeo stabled with Ginty McLintoch and when I picked him up this morning her grooms had already plaited him for me and done his hooves and the other stuff.”

The judge stared at Natasha in stunned disbelief. “Miss Tucker! The rules state quite clearly that you cannot enter the Best Groomed and Turned-out competition unless you have done all the work yourself! I have disqualified girls in the past just because they got their mothers to help them with the plaiting! This is a much more serious situation. By your own admission you have done hardly any work! You have a wonderfully groomed horse, but since it’s not your own doing I
cannot possibly award you a ribbon.”

The scandal spread through the pony club like wildfire. “I think it serves her right,” Stella said. “I mean, I put in hours and hours getting Marmite ready. I was up at five this morning plaiting him up!”

“It worked out quite well for us,” Kate noted. With Natasha’s sudden elimination, Kate and Toby had been bumped up to first place. “Imagine thinking you could enter a horse when you hadn’t even done the work yourself!”

Issie shook her head. “I don’t think she really meant to cheat—I think she just doesn’t realise that other riders have to groom their own horses.”

“Oh, come on, Issie!” protested Stella. “She cheated and she got caught. She would be loving it if the same thing happened to you!”

Issie shook her head. “I still feel sorry for her.”

“Because she’s a cheater?”

“No! I mean I feel sorry for her because of this whole thing with her dad. I’m sure Natasha doesn’t even know what he’s up to. She thought her dad was actually paying attention to her for once, but in fact, he’s just trying to make money off the pony club.”

“Has anyone seen Mr Tucker today?” Kate asked.

Issie nodded. “He’s over at the judges’ marquee. Aidan is keeping an eye on him. He’s going to let us know the minute anything happens.”

“So at some point today, Mr Tucker is going to meet with the money guys and sign the deal…” Kate said.

“And before he does we still have to somehow get our hands on the blueprints,” added Stella.

Issie sighed. “I know. It doesn’t sound like much of a plan, does it? But he must have those blueprints with him today. This is our last chance to grab them so we can prove what he’s up to.”

Over the past week, the girls had failed miserably to come up with a better plan and so far today wasn’t going smoothly. Oliver Tucker was already suspicious of Issie. At morning tea time in the judges’ marquee he had been talking on his mobile, but as soon as Issie tried to get closer to listen he snapped the phone shut in mid-conversation.

“He knows you’re on to him and you’re making him twitchy,” Aidan pointed out to her. “You stay away from Oliver Tucker. I’ll keep an eye on him. Just concentrate on riding Fortune and winning that golden trophy.”

All the cups and shields that were up for grabs for today’s events were on display on a trestle table in the
marquee. The Tucker Trophy eclipsed all the other prizes. It was at least four times the size of any other trophy and the rearing horse looked outrageously glitzy with those turquoise eyes and diamanté mane. Despite the fact that only Chevalier Point riders were eligible to win it, there had been a steady procession of competitors from district pony clubs coming to the tent just to gawp at it, as if it were the
Mona Lisa
.

The scoreboard was set up beside the trophy table, and as the events began to tally up Issie was convinced she was still in with a good chance of winning. After the Best Turned-out drama, Issie had chalked up top points in the first ridden event of the day—Best Rider. Natasha had made a comeback after that in the very next event, winning the Paced & Mannered class. Morgan Chatswood-Smith had won the Open Pony event, with Kate and Toby taking second place, and Natasha had to be satisfied with third.

That brought the morning to a close with the last flat event of the day before lunch break—the Maiden Pony. This was a class for novice horses so only Stella on Marmite and Issie on Fortune were eligible out of the Chevalier Point riders. Competition from the other clubs was stiff, and Stella was beaming from ear to ear when
she took first place on Marmite. Issie had come second on Fortune, who had done a lovely figure of eight for the judge and a super rein-back.

There was a huge amount of whooping and clapping from the sidelines as Judge Marjory tied the pretty, gold-trimmed red ribbon around Marmite’s neck, and just as much cheering as she put the blue ribbon around Fortune.

“You two have got a fan club, haven’t you?” Judge Marjory grinned at the noise from the sidelines. Issie looked up to see her mum and Mrs Tarrant standing beside the arena with Aunt Hester and Araminta Chatswood-Smith.

“Aunty Hess!” Issie was stunned as she rode out of the ring. “Mum didn’t tell me you were coming today!”

“That’s because I didn’t know!” Mrs Brown smiled. “Hester just turned up a moment ago.”

“I had to check up on the progress of my ponies, didn’t I?” Hester grinned. “Well done, you girls! A few more ribbons around their necks and these ponies will be worth so much more on auction day next weekend!”

Stella’s smiled faded as Hester said this. She had really bonded with Marmite over the past two weeks and she had been thrilled when Aidan suggested that
she should be the one to ride the brown pony today. After winning at the dressage day, she had leapt at the chance to ride him again. The fact that Marmite was due to be sold at auction in a week’s time was not something she wanted to think about.

“When Aidan told me his idea to train the ponies in Chevalier Point,” Hester said, “I thought it was just an elaborate plan on his part so that he could hang out with you, Issie. But now that I see how well-schooled these horses have become, I must say he was right to bring them here. Stella did a lovely job riding Marmite in that last event. As for Fortune, he looks like a different pony, doesn’t he? What do you think, Araminta?”

“He’s a classic Blackthorn,” Araminta said, eyeing up the pony’s conformation. “Good thick bone, a nice hunter type. But you know me, Hester. I don’t care what they look like as long as they can jump.”

“I’ve been showing Araminta a few of my horses,” Hester explained to the girls. “Just in case she thinks any of them are suitable to add to her showjumping stable.”

“We’ve already been to Winterflood Farm to check out Strawberry, Roanie and Lulu,” Araminta said. “Since it was gymkhana day, we thought this would be the perfect chance to see the other Blackthorns in action.”

Despite the fact that Araminta and Hester were only spectators, they were both dressed ready to ride. Aunt Hester was dressed safari-style in khaki jodhpurs and a matching shirt with a leopard-print scarf holding back her curly blonde hair. Araminta was just as chic, in navy jodhpurs with a sky blue blouse and a white and gold Hermes scarf securing her long black ponytail. The two women certainly added a touch of glamour to the pony-club gymkhana.

“Hey, Mum!” Morgan rode up to join them on Black Jack. She hadn’t ridden in the last class because Black Jack was too experienced to qualify as a Maiden Pony. “What do you think? I told you that Fortune had potential, didn’t I?”

“He certainly does. I’ll be looking forward to seeing this pony in the Hunter classes this afternoon,” Araminta said to Issie. “Morgan tells me she’s seen him jumping at the pony club and he’s quite something.”

Issie suddenly felt herself swelling up with pride on Fortune’s behalf. The kooky little piebald had done so well already today, and if he could just pull off a prize in the Show Hunter competition this afternoon, along with the points they had gathered so far today, Issie knew they had a really good chance of winning the Tucker Trophy.

Her brief moment of pride was short-lived, however, because on the way back to the horse truck, she was jolted back to reality. In the showjumping ring the men were now beginning to erect the course. Her heart plummeted as she looked at the jumps circuit.

It was a classic, simple Show Hunter course. There were three white gates, a brush fence and then another gate around the sides of the arena. They all looked fine, but the fence in the middle of the ring gave Issie a sick feeling. They were putting in a full wire fence! It was just like the one she had fallen at during the training with Avery.

Issie felt the butterflies churning up already. She had been hoping against the odds that there wouldn’t be a wire to jump in the course today.

“Issie?” Stella came riding up next to her. “Kate and I are going to get some crisps at the clubroom on the way back to the truck—you want to come?”

Issie shook her head. “You go on without me—I’ll meet you guys later. I’ve got to go and do something.”

Issie realised now that she had to find Avery. She needed her instructor’s help to resolve Fortune’s problems with the wire or she would never get a clear round. If she couldn’t make it over that fence, she
didn’t stand a chance of winning the Show Hunter and her hopes of taking home the Tucker Trophy were doomed.

Chapter 16

Avery was having issues of his own when Issie found him at the judges’ marquee.

“What’s up?” he said. “Can it wait? I’m in a bit of a flap trying to get these flag race entries sorted…”

“Not really,” Issie said. “Please, Tom, I need your help.”

Avery put down the box of entry forms and turned to her. “What’s the problem?”

“You know how Fortune and I had that fall when we were training over the wire fence?” Issie asked.

“I remember,” he said, “but you got back on and you aced it.”

“That’s the thing,” Issie said. “I managed to get Fortune over it then, but I could tell that he was really
frightened and there’s no way he’ll jump it again.” She felt like she was about to burst into tears. “And now there’s one in the Show Hunter class and if I can’t somehow get him over it, then there’s no way we can get a clear round and win it and…”

“Hey, hey, Issie, calm down,” Avery said gently. “You’re getting yourself all worked up.”

Issie wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Feeling better?”

“Uh-huh,” said Issie shakily.

“Listen,” Avery said, “this is no big deal. We just need to get your confidence back.”

Issie frowned. “My confidence?” She was confused. “But it’s Fortune. He’s the one who’s scared. He’s totally spooked by the wire!”

“Really?” Avery said. “Are you sure that’s what’s happening, Issie?”

“What do you mean?”

“A horse can sense when his rider isn’t totally committed to jumping a fence,” said Avery. “The day that you and Fortune had your fall, you were tensed up and your body language was all wrong as you approached the jump. You weren’t riding positively and instead, you
rode as if you were braced for Fortune to refuse.”

“You’re saying it was my fault?” Issie couldn’t believe it.

Avery shook his head. “I’m not saying you did it on purpose. But the mind controls the body. I think there was part of you that didn’t believe that Fortune would jump and so instinctively, you held yourself back and rode defensively as if you were prepared to stop.”

Even though Issie didn’t want to admit it, she knew that Avery was right. She had been riding totally differently when she’d tried to jump the wire. She never expected Fortune to jump—and that was why she’d failed.

“It is me,” she said quietly. “I’m the one who’s causing the problem.”

Avery nodded. “It’s important that you can admit it. And it’s more common than you think. Every rider in the world faces a bogey fence at some time, Issie.”

“So it’s really all my fault?” Issie asked tearfully.

“Not entirely. The problem is, once a horse starts baulking, it becomes a vicious circle,” Avery confirmed. “Once you feel that fear and indecision, you pass it on to your horse. Fortune has sensed your lack of faith in him and it’s made him confused. You ride him at the jump, but you don’t really believe he’s going to take it and so he stops.”

Issie groaned. “So now it’s impossible to solve?”

“I never said that.” Avery shook his head. “I’m sure we can get you and Fortune jumping the wire with no trouble.”

Avery reached up and took Fortune’s reins. “Hop off,” he said.

Issie was confused. “What?”

“You heard me,” Avery said. “Hop off.”

“But why?”

Avery smiled. “Because I’m going to ride Fortune.”

Avery led Fortune over to the warm-up area and explained his theory to Issie as they walked side by side. “This horse is not afraid of the wire. Once you see for yourself that he can jump it, then you’ll have faith in him and you’ll be able to commit completely to the fence.”

He turned to her. “Now give me a leg-up, will you?”

Issie had seen Avery ride, but he had never been on one of her horses before—and he had never ridden here at the pony club. He looked so strange sitting up there on Fortune—and his appearance wasn’t helped by the fact that his long, lanky legs made him much too large for the piebald pony.

“I’ll just settle him in,” Avery told her. “And then I’ll pop him over the wire a couple of times.”

Avery gathered up the reins and rode Fortune off at a brisk trot, working him around the arena. The first thing that Issie noticed was how nicely Fortune moved with Tom riding him. His trot was alert and collected as Avery got him on the bit. Fortune arched his neck and used his hindquarters beautifully. Issie watched in amazement as Avery made every move that she tried to do seem totally effortless.

Issie was reminded of just what a great rider Avery must once have been. Her instructor had ridden at the Olympics and the Badminton Horse Trials. It might have been a long time ago now, but Avery still handled a horse better than anyone else she knew.

There were three warm-up jumps set up today, including a wire fence, and several riders were using them now that the Show Hunter class was about to get under way. Avery rode respectfully, as professional riders do, making sure that he didn’t get in the way as another rider was about to jump. Then he took his turn, coming in at a trot to face the wire fence. Taking it at a trot! Issie couldn’t believe it. But Avery knew what he was doing. He let Fortune put in two easy
canter strides just before the jump and the piebald popped over it as if it weren’t even there!

Avery gave Fortune a slappy pat on his broad black and white neck as they hit the ground on the other side and then he immediately came around once more to take the fence again. This time he cantered Fortune in all the way at a steady pace and once again Fortune leapt the wire with total ease.

Avery cantered around and did a loop, coming in from the other side of the fence this time. Issie watched the piebald arc neatly over with his ears pricked forward. Avery had been totally right. Fortune wasn’t scared of the wire. It had been Issie’s problem all along.

As Avery came trotting back over to her Issie felt embarrassed.

Avery smiled at her. “If anything, it’s my fault. I should have made sure that you got your confidence back after you fell. I didn’t realise what you were going through. I guess I think of you as bulletproof, Issie. But even really good riders can have their nerve tested and I should have picked up on the warning signs.”

He vaulted down off Fortune’s back. “Anyway, do you believe in your horse now?”

Issie nodded. “I do.”

Avery smiled again. “Then I think it’s time you got back on and gave it a go yourself.” He looked at his watch. “They’re about to get under way with the afternoon jumping. It’ll be time for you to go into the ring soon.”

Issie put on her helmet then Avery gave her a leg-up and she shortened her stirrups, adjusting their length back to her jumping height. She was just getting settled into the saddle when Stella suddenly cantered into the practice ring, waving frantically at them.

“What’s going on?” Stella said. “Why are you still here? Why aren’t you in the Show Hunter ring?”

“What are you talking about?” asked Issie.

“The Show Hunter class has started!” Stella said. “You’re supposed to be the second rider to go! They’ve already called your name twice.”

Issie felt as if iced water had suddenly been poured into her veins. She had never expected the Hunter Class to begin so quickly after lunch break! She hadn’t even had time to try a practice jump and if she didn’t get into the arena fast, she might not even get the chance to compete.

“Go now!” Stella yelled. “They’ll call you once more and then you’ll be eliminated. GO!”

Issie reached the arena just in time to hear her name being called over the loudspeaker. She was about to ride into the ring when she felt a hand clasp her arm. It was Aidan!

“He’s on the move!” Aidan said.

“Who?” Issie didn’t know what Aidan was talking about.

“Mr Tucker,” Aidan said. “I’ve been tailing him all morning and he must have realised because just a moment ago he managed to lose me and then he totally disappeared. He’s gone, Issie! I can’t find him anywhere on the club grounds. I think whatever he has planned is about to happen!”

Issie looked around, panic-struck. Oliver Tucker was nowhere in sight. And she was due in the ring pronto!

“I’ve got to go in right now or I’ll be eliminated,” she told Aidan. “Keep an eye out for Mr Tucker. I won’t be long. I’ll talk to you in a minute, OK?”

Aidan reluctantly let go of her arm and Issie rode straight into the ring and saluted the judge. She acknowledged Issie’s arrival with a return salute and Issie urged Fortune into a canter, doing a big circle to get the horse into a steady stride before facing up to the first jump.

She had never felt more unprepared in a show ring than she did at that moment. She hadn’t even had a chance to do any of the jumps, let alone practise over the wire. And then Aidan grabbing her like that just as she was about to enter the ring!

Issie could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She had to calm down and focus. Avery was right. She had to keep it together if she expected Fortune to make it a clear round. And she had to go clear if she wanted to win the golden trophy.

Issie rode hard at the first fence, picking up Fortune’s stride, pressing him into a strong canter. The piebald jumped the white gate easily with perfect Show Hunter style. He took the second and third gates just as smoothly and did a U-turn at the far end of the ring, looping round to canter back over the final fences. Ahead of them was the brush fence, the last white gate and then finally, they would need to circle into the middle of the ring to jump the wire. Issie felt a surge of excitement as Fortune pulled against her hands, keen to get to the next jump. The piebald was clearly loving it and Issie was ready to go with him.

She steadied Fortune and looked over the next fence: the brush. From this angle she could see back across the
pony-club field and on to the golf course. Ahead of her, out on the green, was a sight she hadn’t expected to see. Oliver Tucker was driving a golf buggy like a man possessed, across the fairway towards the furthest end of the course. Beside him, on the passenger seat, Issie could see a long plastic tube. The blueprints! He must be on his way to the meeting with his backers!

Issie looked around frantically. Aidan hadn’t spotted Mr Tucker yet. And Stella and Kate were both over at the practice arena warming up. By the time Issie finished her round and raised the alarm it would be too late.

Issie had to make a choice. If she wanted to stop Mr Tucker, she needed to act now. The golden trophy with its turquoise eyes and sparkly ruby hooves flashed through her mind. She imagined going up in front of everyone at prize-giving to accept the trophy, and the look on Natasha’s face as she took it from under her nose. Then she let the dream go. The pony club was more important than any prize.

“Come on, Fortune!” She turned the pony hard, tugging on the right rein to turn him away from the brush. Fortune had the jump in his sights and was confused as they galloped straight past it. But he didn’t fight Issie as she rode him straight towards the fenceline.

On the sidelines the spectators had noticed that something was wrong with the competitor in the ring. Why wasn’t she taking on any of the jumps? And where on earth was she going?

Avery, Mrs Brown, Araminta and Aunty Hester were all completely bewildered as they stood and watched Issie’s bizarre turn.

“What the heck is going on?” Hester said. “Is Fortune bolting?”

Avery shook his head. “It’s not the horse, it’s Issie. She’s riding him at the back fence!”

Between the golf club and the pony club was a full wire fence, a little higher than the one Issie had been going to jump for the Show Hunter.

As Issie approached the fence she felt a brief moment of nerves—a tightening in her belly. This was a real fence, not a show ring jump. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

She tried to remember what Avery had said about believing that she could do it. She tried to positively visualise herself soaring over the wire, landing safely on the other side. “Go on, go on, GO ON!” Issie was talking to herself and didn’t realise that her whisper was becoming a shout as she came in for the last stride at the
wire. In that crucial moment, she knew the truth. If she didn’t have total faith, she would fail, Fortune would baulk and all would be lost, including the pony club. Issie held her breath. And jumped.

BOOK: Fortune and the Golden Trophy
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