The Ryder Chronicles. Vicki Sach

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      The Ryder Chronicles

      Can Sarah uncover her horse’s mysterious past?

      Vicki Sach

      Copyright © 2013 Vicki Sach

      No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior consent of the publisher.

      Cover images © Monkey Business Images (girl)/Maria Itina (horse)–Dreamstime.com.

      Cover design by One Horse Media.

      The Publisher makes no representations or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this book and specifically disclaim any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for a particular purpose. Neither the publisher nor author shall be liable for any loss of profit or any commercial damages.

      2013-03-26

      Acknowledgments

      Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to finish writing ‘The Ryder Chronicles’. And to my three whippets who kept me company during the process.

      Ryder by name…rider by nature

      Have you ever been shopping and insisted on buying an expensive pair of shoes? They felt really uncomfortable when you tried them on but you just HAD to have them? Well that’s what it was like when it came to buying my first horse. I think I broke every rule in the book…I didn’t take an experienced horse person with me; didn’t bother with a vet check or ask for a written receipt. It was a classic case of what NOT to do!

      My name is Sarah Ryder. Yeah, I know…corny name for someone who loves horses as much as I do but heck, I was born with it. Ryder by name, rider by nature I always say.

      I’m 17 years old and live with my mum, dad and 18 year old brother Jordan. He and I are forever playing practical jokes on one another. My best so far was when he tried to mow our back lawn (one of his chores) but I took the mower blades off. It took me ages and I got covered in gunk but it was worth it to see the look on his face!

      He got me back by sneaking a prawn into my schoolbag….I couldn’t figure out where the stink was coming from for ages! Mum wasn’t impressed because she ended up having to buy me a new bag.

      My dad has his own music business, which is pretty cool. He used to be executive of a large recording company but decided to branch out on his own and turned an old dairy on our property into a sound-proof studio. Mum kind of helps him out…she’s a freelance graphic designer who works from home although sometimes I reckon she sees more of her computer than she does her family!

      I’m average height, have blondish hair (highlighted from time to time) and have been horse crazy ever since I can remember. My family lives on a five hectare property at the foot of Victoria’s Dandenong Ranges; a gorgeous area but the best part is it’s VERY horsey! We moved here about three years ago and I love it. We used to live about 10 minutes from Melbourne which was okay except for smog and the fact there wasn’t a horse within cooee.

      It’s agony being horsey in a non-horsey family but the best news is that mum and dad have finally uttered those magic words…I can get a horse.

      I’d been having riding lessons most weekends for over four years, starting with trail rides at a run-down dump and progressing to proper lessons at a more upmarket centre which boasted an indoor school.

      My dream horse is a stunningly beautiful chestnut with lots of white markings, about 16 hands and fairly young because I plan on us being together for a quite a while. I mostly want to do hack classes at shows and who knows, maybe even compete in the Garryowen some day!

      I’ve dragged mum to Barastoc Horse of the Year show a few times…I’m in seventh heaven when I go there. The horses are so awesome, the way they’re turned out; the gorgeous bling browbands, the riders’ outfits. I SO want to do that! I haven’t really told mum how much all this is going to cost mind you; I plan on gathering all the bits and pieces while I school my show hack and get him or her fine-tuned for our future show career.

      I’ve gone through the latest Horse Trader magazine from cover to cover and picked out four horses within my price range. There’s plenty more I’d love to enquire about but they’re a little (actually, a lot) beyond my budget. Oh well, a girl can dream can’t she?

      The four I have my eye on include a 15.2hh eight year old bay mare; a 15hh six year old grey gelding; a 16.2hh chestnut thoroughbred ex-racehorse (this my number one choice actually), and a 15hh five year old bay gelding.

      I spent hours gazing at their photos and reading the descriptions over and over until I practically knew them off by heart. Alas, when I phoned about the first one the lady said she’d already been sold. Oh well…on to the next. The person selling the grey seemed nice, told me he was being used for Pony Club and had potential as a future eventer. Hmmm, not exactly what I had in mind but I reckon from the looks of him he could also make a decent show horse so organised a time for mum and I to check him out on the weekend.

      I’m really excited about the chestnut though, the seller said he was an ex-racehorse but was really quiet and had royal show potential, although I kind of got the impression he was only telling me what he thought I wanted to hear. That’s what it felt like anyway, but heck, the horse was only an hour’s drive away so I arranged to visit him too. At least I’ll get to have a horsey weekend and score some rides into the bargain!

      As for the last horse, I phoned to enquire about him and told the lady about my riding background, but she stressed the horse was too young and inexperienced for a beginner. I wasn’t quite sure what to say because as far as I was concerned, I wasn’t a beginner, I’d been riding for years! But she insisted the horse wouldn’t suit me, wished me luck and hung up. I was really disappointed but there wasn’t a lot I could do.

      Come the weekend, I was up bright and early, dressed in my favourite jodhpurs and t-shirt. We were seeing the grey horse first out the other side of town, about a two hour drive away. Mum chatted away about…stuff. I couldn’t really say what because my mind was miles away and my stomach churning. I was picturing myself riding the grey in a hunter class at Horse of the Year, waiting for the judge to decide on the final winner. He looks the first three horses over and beckons towards me…..

      “SARAH!” Mum was yelling, apparently for the third time. “We’re here.”

      I gazed at the horses in small paddocks lining the driveway. They were rugged and most were grazing while a few played ‘nibble your neighbour’s withers’ over the fence.

      I could see a grey horse tied up already saddled and felt a pang of disappointment. He didn’t look anything like his photo! To start with, he was really underweight and I couldn’t help noticing some ugly dark scarring on his flank and legs. It crossed my mind that someone had been playing around in Photoshop and ‘erased’ the scars on the photo in his advert because I’m certain I would have noticed them. But he had a kind eye and I read somewhere that scars could be covered with make-up for the show ring, so I decided I may as well check him out. I’m no judge of horseflesh but I do know a few basic conformation faults, like a goose rump and cow hocks, both of which the grey had.

      The owner prattled on about how well schooled he was, blah, blah, blah, but something didn’t СКАЧАТЬ