Mystic and the Midnight Ride. Stacy Gregg

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       CHAPTER 2

      Clouds of dust rose up from the truck tyres as Avery turned off the main road and down the gravel drive that led to the Chevalier Point grounds. Ahead of them were the pony-club gates, hemmed by a line of tall magnolia trees. Beyond the magnolias was another paddock gate and then a series of large plane trees ran like a leafy spine down the middle of the three paddocks that made up the club grounds.

      On warm summer days riders could loll about in the shade of the plane trees while their horses rested. It wasn’t going to get that hot today. After all, this was the first gymkhana of the season. Still, Avery pulled the horse truck up in the first paddock under two of the biggest trees so that they would be shaded from the glare of the sun.

      They unloaded the horses and set to work braiding manes, stencilling chequerboard patterns on to rumps and oiling the ponies’ hooves.

      Issie had never seen so many riders at Chevalier Point before. The gymkhana was open to all riders in the district, and Issie tried to pick out which riders were from the various clubs by the colour of their jerseys and ties. The Chevalier Point club uniform was a navy jersey with a bright red tie and Issie could see two riders dressed in Chevalier Point colours riding towards her from the far field where the showjumps had been set up.

      “Hey, dizzy Issie!” the rider at the front called to her as he cantered closer. “About time you got here. Ben and me have already walked the showjumping course.”

      Dan and Ben were Chevalier Point Pony Club members. Dan had a flea-bitten grey gelding called Kismit, while Ben rode a grumpy Welsh pony called Max.

      “Are the jumps very big?” Issie asked nervously.

      “Huge!” Dan teased her. “And you’ve got to ride fast too, if you want to beat the clock. The best time with no faults wins.” He was grinning from ear to ear. Dan was a speed demon. He and Kismit would be the ones to beat in the jumping ring today.

      No time to walk the course now, Issie decided. It was nearly time for the first event. She would have to check out the jumps with Stella and Kate during the lunch break.

      “Hello, Kismit.” Issie reached out a hand to pat the slender grey on the nose. “I suppose you’ve been promised extra carrots for dinner if you go fast today?” She smiled at Dan.

      “Hey! I don’t need to bribe my own horse to win.” Dan grinned back. “Anyway, we’re going to fill in our entry forms now. Do you want to come?” he asked.

      Issie was about to say yes when she heard her mother calling her name.

      “Isadora! Isadora!” Mrs Brown cried out as she strode across the field towards her. Issie groaned. She couldn’t stand the way her mother insisted on using her full name. Isadora. It sounded so snobby and girly, not at all the sort of name for a serious horse rider. Sure, Avery called her Isadora sometimes too, but only when he was telling her off during a riding lesson. Apart from that, everyone else, even her teachers at school, called her Issie.

      “I’ve filled in your entry forms,” Mrs Brown explained. “Doesn’t Mystic look wonderful?” She gave the grey gelding a very nervous pat and held on to the reins, extending her arm so that she was standing as far away from Mystic as possible while Issie did up the girth.

      Everyone said that Issie was exactly like her mum. It was true that they were both tall, tanned and lean with long dark hair. But Issie didn’t think they were alike at all. How could they be when Issie loved horses so much and her mother didn’t even like them?

      Issie wished her mum would give riding a try. Maybe if she could experience for herself the thrill of cantering across open fields with the wind in her hair, she’d finally be able to understand why Issie adored riding so much. But her mum was way too scared to even sit on a horse, let alone canter one.

      “What’s your first event?” Mrs Brown asked, still reluctantly hanging on to Mystic’s reins as Issie finished adjusting her stirrups.

      “Paced and Mannered. We’re due in the ring any minute now,” Issie told her. She gave Mystic a stroke on his dark, velvety nose and her mum gave her a leg up.

      “Come on, boy,” Issie murmured softly, leaning low over Mystic’s neck, “let’s show them what we can do.”