Free Storm and the Silver Bridle by Stacy Gregg Page A

“This is the high pasture, the last of El Caballo grazing lands,” she explained to Issie. She pointed ahead of her. “Do you see that orange grove and the brick wall with the turrets beyond the trees?”
    Issie nodded.
    “That is Miguel Vega’s hacienda,” Francoise said. “The orange trees mark the point where our land stops and his property begins.” Francoise’s eyes narrowed against the sun as she stared ahead. “It is only natural, I suppose, that the two best horse studs in Spain should be right besideeach other like this,” she said. “Vega’s family has been here for centuries, just like Roberto’s. Their ancestors knew that this lush, fertile land was the best place to raise horses. And it was only natural too, I suppose, that the families would become such great rivals.”
    Issie reached a hand down to stroke Angel’s neck and, as she did so, she caught a glimpse of the stallion’s profile and the ugly scars that marred his beautiful face. “I hope I never meet Miguel Vega,” Issie said. “If he could do this to Angel then he must be horrible.”
    Francoise looked tense. “Isadora, I am very much afraid that you may have to meet him.” She took a deep breath before the words came stumbling out. “Because we think it is Miguel Vega who has taken Nightstorm.”

Chapter 7
    Issie would have ridden to Vega’s straight away to confront him and demand that he return the colt if Francoise hadn’t grabbed at Angel’s reins and held her back, calming her down until she saw sense.
    “It is useless to go in there angry and without any plan,” she said bluntly. “If you really want to get Storm back then we must be smart about it. Miguel Vega went to great lengths to steal your colt—do you really think he will simply hand him back again?”
    Even in her fury, Issie had the sense to listen to Francoise. “I should never have brought you here like this,” Francoise said. “I am sorry. I know it is hard, but please be patient, now is not the time. You will only endanger your colt if you rush off to face Vega now.”
    And so Issie cast one last, longing look at Vega’s hacienda, and then turned Angel around under Francoise’s watchful eye and followed Marius back into the gorge towards El Caballo Danza Magnifico.
    She knew Francoise was right. Yet at that moment, turning her back on her colt had been unbearable. To be so near, and still unable to help him, was beyond painful. Francoise reassured her that it wouldn’t be long to wait.
    “We will get our chance tomorrow—at the
feria
. It is a huge festival, held every ten years to celebrate the race for the Silver Bridle. Vega is bound to be there. Roberto will tell you all about it when we meet for dinner tonight.”

    Dinner that evening was held in the main dining room and was a grand affair to celebrate the arrival of the guests. Issie hadn’t been sure if she would like Spanish food, but everything tasted wonderful—there was deep fried calamari, fresh tomato bread and rich, hearty paella.
    Alfonso had clearly been expecting to spend the meal talking to Avery about the good old days and his father’s adventures, but Avery fobbed him off.
    “I don’t know what tall stories your father has told youabout me,” Avery grinned, “but that was a long time ago. These days I lead a very quiet life.”
    “It doesn’t sound very exciting,” Alfonso said. “Who would give up international eventing to be head instructor at a pony club?”
    “Alfie!” Roberto told him off.
    “No,” Avery said, “I know what he means. When I gave up riding, I had offers of all kinds of jobs, which I suppose you would call glamorous, but I wanted to do something that really helped young riders.” He cast a glance at Issie. “Besides, a lot more action happens in Chevalier Point than you might think.”
    It was Roberto who brought the conversation around to Miguel Vega. As he told everyone at the table about what a monster Vega was and his fears that it