Free Fortune and the Golden Trophy by Stacy Gregg Page A

in disbelief. “Issie, don’t you realise you have a special opportunity with this horse?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Sure, it’s easy to look good when you have a horse like Romeo—there’s no challenge. But if you can take a horse like Fortune and put the work in and turn him into a performance sport-horse, that’s the mark of a real rider,” Avery said.
    “I’ve seen brilliant riders take a $200 horse that was on its way to the knacker’s yard and turn it into a grand prix showjumper. A great rider can turn the worst problem horse into a champion.” Then he added, “I’ve also seenriders like Natasha, who take a perfectly good horse and turn it sour by treating it badly. She might succeed on that horse for a while, but eventually her attitude will cause problems.”
    At that moment Issie saw clearly what Avery was driving at. How many horses had Natasha been through since she’d joined the Chevalier Point Pony Club? There had been Goldrush, then Fabergé and now Romeo. They were all brilliant when they arrived at Chevalier Point. They were the sort of horses that Issie dreamt of owning. But Natasha was never happy with any of them. Right from the start, she blamed them for her own faults as a rider and so the horses became worse until she gave up and sold them on.
    Issie looked at Fortune, grazing happily at the other side of the paddock. How could she have been so heartless? She had been acting like Natasha towards the piebald from the moment he arrived, and Avery was right: it really wasn’t funny. OK, so Fortune was a bit peculiar, but had Issie given him a chance to prove how special he was too? She had the chance to make or break this horse. Issie needed to change her attitude if she was going to help Fortune.
    She nodded. “I guess we got off on the wrong foot.”
    Avery nodded. “Lucky for you he has four of them, so I think there’s a chance you can start again.” Avery gave the last wire a twist as he finished his fix-up job and then began to pack up his tool kit.
    “Why don’t we start straight away?” he suggested. “I’ve arranged with Stella and Kate to meet me here at midday for a dressage lesson. Why don’t you saddle Fortune up and join in too?”
    Issie smiled gratefully at her instructor. “That sounds like just what we need, Tom.”
    There was a grunt from the far side of the field as Fortune stopped grazing and dropped down to the ground for his mid-morning nap.
    Issie shook her head and grinned. OK, so the piebald had some quirks, but who cared? There was a star buried somewhere in that pony and now she was determined to make it shine.

    When Stella and Kate arrived at the club they were very excited by the news of Fortune’s bid for freedom.
    “It wasn’t much of a getaway,” Issie admitted as she saddled up. “He only went a couple of metres and then he gave up and decided to eat instead.”
    “It’s weird though,” Kate said. “Who would cut a hole in the pony-club fence?”
    “Ohmygod!” Stella suddenly froze. “Morgan is back at the club this season. Now she’s in the running for the trophy, maybe she’s gone off the deep end again?”
    Issie shook her head. “I don’t think so. Morgan is totally over that whole thing and besides, if anything went wrong, she knows that she’d be the first person we’d suspect. Also it doesn’t make sense. If you wanted to win the Tucker Trophy, you’d sabotage Natasha’s horse, not Fortune. He’s the least likely to win it.”
    As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Issie realised she was running her horse down again without even thinking about it.
    “I’m sorry, Fortune,” she said, speaking sincerely to the piebald. “I didn’t mean that you won’t win. I just meant you’re an outside chance.” She stroked the pony gently on his Roman nose. “But we’ll show them, won’t we?”
    Fortune gave a grunt of pleasure as Issie stroked him and then took the opportunity to get closer and loll his head