Liberty and the Dream Ride (13 page)

Avery frowned. “What are you talking about, Stella?”

He knelt down beside her. “It's OK, try to relax. You've been drugged. We'll take you to hospital and get you checked out.”

“OK,” Stella said. “Hospital good. But first I'm just going to have a little, little catnap…” She slumped back down on the bench again.

“Tom,” Issie said. “I'm really sorry about riding off like that in the middle of the course. I know I ruined everything…”

Avery looked at her, completely stunned. “I must admit it gave me a shock at the time, but, Issie, I totally understand why you did it now! You can't possibly think that I'd be angry at you for wanting to save Stella's life?”

Issie shook her head. “But Tom, the prize money! This was our chance to—”

She was interrupted by the sound of hooves in the corridor as Marcus and Tara led Liberty out to join them.

“I've checked her over and she seems to be fine,” Marcus said.

“Good,” Tara said to him. “I'll call the vet in to do a blood test just to be safe, but in the meantime you'd better get to work.”

“You want me to do it?” Marcus asked.

“Well, Stella can't possibly manage in her condition. Can she?” Tara pointed out. She looked at her watch. “You've got plenty of time. She's not scheduled to go until one twenty.”

Marcus nodded. “OK, I'll start bandaging her legs.”

Issie turned to Tara. “What's going on? What is Marcus doing?”

“He's taking over as your groom,” Tara replied. “We're getting your horse ready.”

“You're joking.”

“I'm deadly serious,” Tara said. “Liberty is still in the game, Issie, and so are you. In two hours you're going to be back out there – riding the cross-country.”

Issie had turned her back on eventing glory, giving up her dream to save Stella and Liberty. After abandoning the cross-country mid-competition she never thought that she'd be given a second chance.

Tara, however, saw matters differently. “Liberty is still entered in this competition,” she pointed out. “You're still registered to ride her.”

“But what about Valmont?” Issie asked.

“The police are charging Tyrel Valmont with financial fraud and attempted horse murder,” Tara said. “However, you and Liberty aren't being charged with anything. Officially, you still have every right to go ahead and ride her. It's up to you, Issie – what do you want to do?”

“Even if I wanted to do it, the judges will never let me ride again!” Issie said. “After the way I tore off on Comet there's no way I'd be allowed back on the course. I've probably been banned from ever riding in a Four-Star again.”

“Leave it with me,” Avery said. “Once I explain the situation to Blaire Andrews I'm certain they'll be more than sympathetic to your plight.”

Avery looked at Issie. “You can pull out if you really want to, Issie. I would understand completely, and so would Tara and Marcus, after the ordeal you've just been through. But the opportunity is here if you want to take it. It's up to you.”

Issie looked at him and grinned. “Are you kidding, Tom? Of course I want to!”

With that decision made, everyone was swiftly allocated their roles. There was much to be done over the next two hours before the mare was due in the start box. Avery headed off to clear the paperwork with Blaire Andrews, Marcus took on the preparation of Liberty and Tara went to check on Stella, who was being cared for by the St John's medics, who were on site, monitoring the cross-country. It was left up to Issie to take care of Comet.

After his mad gallop the skewbald needed a good wash-down to get the sweat off him. Issie took her pony to the wash bay and hosed him all over, then used the sweat-scraper to squeegee off excess moisture before walking Comet to keep his muscles from getting too chilly as he dried off. She rugged him up afterwards in his woollen stable blanket and then took him back to his loose box where hard feed was already in the feed bin waiting for him.

Comet, true to form, stuck his muzzle straight into the feed bin and began to hoover down his supper greedily.

“You've certainly earnt it this time,” Issie told him as she watched him devouring the barley and sugar beet. She gave Comet a pat on his damp chestnut and white neck.

Through all the drama that morning, it was only just dawning on Issie that she had thrown away her chance on the talented skewbald.

“We never did get to show them, did we, Comet?” she murmured to the pony. “I'm so sorry, boy, I know you deserved to win. If I hadn't dragged you off like I did then you would have gone clear.”

Comet lifted his head out of the feed bin for a moment and looked at Issie with his big, soft brown eyes. Then he gave a snort as if to say, “Don't worry about it – I'm over it already!”

Issie giggled. “You're right, Comet. There'll be other cross-countries. You and I will get another chance.”

Right now, though, Issie still had a chance of her own on her second ride. Somehow, she had to put the incredible events of the morning behind her and pull herself together. Liberty was waiting for her.

Issie had been worried that Liberty would be more shaken by her ordeal, but the mare had trusted Valmont and didn't seem to realise the extreme danger she had been in. When Issie arrived at Liberty's loose box she found Marcus trying to tack the mare up, but he was having problems with his arm encased in plaster. He was fumbling with the tendon boots and couldn't do up the buckles.

“Here,” Issie said gently, “I'll do it.”

“It's just so frustrating!” Marcus complained.

“They're only tendon boots, it's no big deal,” Issie said.

“Not the boots,” Marcus sighed, “I mean this!”

He held his plaster cast up in the air with a look of despair on his face. Issie suddenly realised just how awful this must be for him, having to sit on the sidelines and watch while she rode the horse that should have been his.

“I'm sorry,” she said softly. “It should be you out there today – not me.”

Marcus took a deep breath and pulled himself together. “No,” he said. “This mare owes you her life. You deserve to ride her today.”

“Marcus.” Issie looked worried. “I don't know if I can do it. I've only had one practice ride on her and you saw how badly it went.”

“You'll be OK,” Marcus reassured her. “Liberty is the best cross-country horse I've ever ridden. She's bold and strong. She's so powerful she almost pulled my arms out of their sockets the last time I rode her round a course.”

He looked at Issie. “Issie, you can win with this mare. But you'll need to change the way you ride if you're going to make it clear and inside the time. Listen very carefully – because I'm going to tell you what to do…”

In the start box the silver-dapple mare moved anxiously, crab-stepping from side to side. Issie took a tighter grip on the reins as she watched the steward speak into his walkie-talkie to check that the course ahead was clear.

“OK,” he told Issie, “we have confirmation. You're good to go. Are you ready?”

Issie could feel her heart pounding like it was trying to escape from her chest. She looked over at Marcus, who was standing on the sidelines. He gave Issie the thumbs-up signal and she waved back. After their talk during the tacking up, she had agreed to go with his game plan for the cross-country. It was risky and Issie knew it, but then Marcus knew the mare better than anyone – if this was the way he wanted Issie to ride Liberty, then she had to trust him. More than that, she had to trust the horse beneath her.

“Are you ready, Liberty?” Issie whispered to the mare. She could feel Liberty's body quivering in anticipation. She took a deep breath and looked out from the start box at the smooth green turf that led to the first fence.

“I'm ready,” she told the steward. Issie took an even tighter hold on Liberty's reins with one hand, the other holding at her own wrist in preparation to press the stopwatch. She stood up in her stirrups in two-point position like a jockey, as the steward counted her down.

“And four… three… two… one… go!”

Liberty broke from the box like a Thoroughbred. As the mare surged forward Issie felt a rush of adrenalin and, for the second time that day, she suddenly found herself facing down the Kentucky Four-Star cross-country.

As they approached the first fence, Issie thought back to that conversation she'd had with Marcus. Now she was on the course she understood with shocking clarity what Marcus had been trying to tell her. She could feel the pure, brute strength of the mare beneath her as Liberty began tanking, leaning so heavily on Issie's hands that it felt like her arms were going to be wrenched off.

Marcus was right, Issie would never be strong enough to hold back a horse like Liberty for six whole kilometres of cross-country jumps. “It would be fatal to try to hold her back,” Marcus had told her in the stables. “She's more powerful than you are, Issie – if you try to control her you'll never win.”

“So what should I do then?” Issie said.

“Let her go,” Marcus replied. “Don't try to hold her back or fight her. Just go with her.”

“Are you kidding?” Issie's eyes grew wild. “Liberty could bolt on me! I'll be on a cross-country course with a horse that is barely in control.”

“If you try and slow Liberty down then you'll lose the Four-Star,” Marcus said. “There's no way you can make it in the optimum time if you fight her back or take the long routes. But if you go straight and let her go – if you trust her to handle the jumps at a gallop, stay with her and kick on – then you just might make it.”

As she jumped the Flower Box for the second time that day, Issie marvelled at the differences between cheeky Comet and silver-dappled Liberty. The mare wasn't a natural jumper like Comet, but she was incredibly well schooled. It was clear that Marcus had spent hours and hours drilling her so that technically you couldn't fault her style. While Comet tended to bound all over the place like an eager puppy, Liberty wasted absolutely no excess energy over a jump, always judging it precisely and never giving more than a centimetre of clearance above the rails. The grease on her legs came into effect by the time they had reached the Mushroom. Issie heard the scrape of the mare's hind legs as she slid over it. Liberty was a pro and she knew exactly how to handle every obstacle. It was the same at the Bridge. Issie aimed the mare dead centre on the sweet spot and Liberty didn't waste any time before she was back in a gallop again and racing towards the next fence.

It was just like Avery had said – now that Liberty's blood was up and she was on the course for real, she was a totally different horse. Perhaps Liberty also understood somehow that Issie had saved her life that morning. Whatever it was, there was a bond of trust between Issie and Liberty that hadn't been there before and the mare felt confident and bold as they approached the Duck Marsh.

It took all of Issie's strength to slow Liberty down enough to balance her up to jump the wooden duck in the water and then turn her hard left to leap out over the wooden rails before circling back through the water and up the bank towards the next jump, the Hickory Tables.

“Beautifully executed by Isadora Brown riding Valmont Liberty!” Mike Partridge told the crowd. “Those of you who have been here all day at the Duck Marsh will remember that this is the same rider who turned her last horse, Blackthorn Comet, round
in the middle of the pond
and abandoned the course and galloped for home. But not this time! It looks like the runaway rider has broken her jinx. She's successfully through the Duck Marsh on her second mount of the day, Valmont Liberty, and my word, what a ride this mare is giving the young lady! Look at them go!”

Mike Partridge didn't know the half of it. Liberty emerged from the water jump at a full gallop. The mare had decided that she was no longer interested in slowing down for the fences. She was bolting and even if Issie wanted to, she couldn't have stopped her.

Steeling herself, Issie remembered Marcus's game plan.
Don't fight the mare when it happens
,
just hang in there and go with her
. It was a theory that worked OK for big, simple jumps like the Hickory Tables, but as Issie got further round the course she began to experience some very hairy moments! At the Giant Squirrel Tails, Issie found herself executing a high-speed turn between the tails and hanging on for dear life as Liberty only realised that she needed to take a second jump when the next squirrel loomed suddenly into view. They made it over, though, and at the second water complex Liberty ploughed into the Lake so fast she sent up a wake that almost drenched the spectators on the sideline. As they headed up the hill towards the Sheep Shelter they were still clear and going strong.

Still to come, though, was the biggest fence on the course, the Gamekeeper's Brush. So far, Liberty had managed to get away with galloping hard at the jumps without being checked and had taken off on a solid forward stride every time. But the Gamekeeper's Brush was no ordinary fence. Issie knew the spread was two metres seventy wide! One mistake, one-last minute flub or a hoof out of line at the speed that Liberty was now travelling, would be nothing short of catastrophic. If Issie thought the cracked ribs she was nursing right now were bad, that was nothing compared to what would happen at the Gamekeeper's Brush if they got it wrong.

This was the most dangerous thing Issie had ever done in her life. As they galloped down the hill towards the Gamekeeper's Brush Issie knew without a shadow of a doubt that this fence could kill her. If Liberty got her timing wrong and tried to chip in an extra stride at the last minute then she wouldn't have time to lift her legs for take-off and would slam into the rails that supported the hedge, cartwheel backwards and land on top of Issie in the ditch.

Issie felt the knot in her stomach tighten in a way she had never experienced before. Something was very wrong and as the fence grew closer she suddenly realised what it was. As the ditch loomed ahead of them, she felt a chill run down her spine. Liberty was coming at the jump in a mad gallop – and she was on the wrong stride.