Free Issie and the Christmas Pony by Stacy Gregg Page A

angrily with her sleeve. Her vision was so blurred from crying that she didn’t see the man coming towards her until it was almost too late.
    â€œHey! Watch where you’re going!”
    Acting on instinct, Issie leapt back and managed to get out of the way just in time as a man leading a horse trotted past, almost bowling her over.
    â€œSorry,” she mumbled feebly.
    â€œAre you all right?” the man asked. “I didn’t even see you! You shouldn’t be running around like that in the warm-up area.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Issie said again. She felt like such an idiot.
    â€œNo harm done,” the man replied. He turned hisattention back to the pony standing beside him. “C’mon, boy.” He picked up the lead rein and set off again at a jog with the pony trotting obediently beside him, heading towards the horse floats at the back of the barn.
    Issie was so shaken, it took her a moment to pull herself together. She had nearly been knocked over and it had all happened so fast. She hadn’t been able to get a good look at the man, or more than a glimpse of the grey pony he was leading. Now, though, she looked directly at the pair of them as they trotted away and she was suddenly struck with the realisation that she had seen the little grey somewhere before.
    The pony was a dapple-grey gelding, with a sway back and a silvery mane and tail. It was hard to tell at first because he had his rump to her, but then, as the pony rounded the corner, he turned his head and Issie finally saw his face. It was snowy white with those wide-set, gentle, coal-black eyes. Ohmygod! Issie felt her pulse quicken and her heart begin to race. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. This wasn’t just any grey pony, it was the grey pony. It was the horse from her dream.

9
Going Once…Going Twice…
    Issie was so stunned by the sight of the grey pony that at first she didn’t react. She remained rooted to the spot, unable to move. By the time she managed to choke out a word, the man and the pony were already almost out of sight behind the horse trucks.
    â€œWait!” Issie cried. But the man didn’t hear her and they disappeared down one of the rows of horse trucks.
    Issie broke into a run, chasing after them. The maze of horse floats, trucks and makeshift horse pens was confusing, but she was pretty sure she knew where the grey pony had gone. She made a left-hand turn at the big white truck where the man and the pony had last disappeared from sight, and began to run down the aisle, looking this way and that, tryingto spot them in among the other horses.
    Issie was about halfway down the row of trucks and floats, and almost ready to admit that she had taken a wrong turn, when she came to a dark green, battered old horse truck parked on the left-hand side of the aisle. She couldn’t see any sign of the man, but there was the little grey pony, tethered up to the side of the truck with a hay net and some water. She knew him immediately this time, and she noticed something that she hadn’t seen before. There was a number stuck to his rump: 99 . He was for sale!
    When he saw Issie, the grey pony raised his head and nickered to her. It was a warm, friendly whinny, as if he was trying to say, Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you!
    â€œHey, boy,” Issie spoke softly to the pony. Then she stepped in closer to the little grey to give him a tentative pat on his soft, velvety muzzle. The pony, however, wasn’t interested in just a pat. He stepped forward too and pushed his head against Issie, trying to use her as a scratching post. He rubbed his face up and down against her T-shirt and gave grunts of satisfaction as he managed to get rid of that hard-to-reach itch on his muzzle.
    Issie giggled as the pony rubbed against her so hard that she almost toppled over. “Hey!” The grey pony’s sudden familiarity had taken the girl by surprise.