Mystic And The Midnight Ride Part 7

"h.e.l.lo? h.e.l.lo?" Issie's voice was wobbly with nerves. Why had the phone stopped ringing? Why wasn't anyone answering? She lifted the mobile up so she could see its digital face more closely. There in the right-hand corner a red light was flashing steadily on and off. She knew what it meant. Dead battery.

"Not now! It can't be!" Issie stared at the red light in disbelief. The mobile let out a low beep, a sign that the battery was about to die completely. About to die, Issie thought. But it's not dead just yet. Maybe it still has enough power left to make one last call. Even if I don't get through to the police maybe somehow they can trace my signal or something.

Issie didn't know much about how mobile phones worked. All she knew was that she had to try something. She dialled the police number again and hung on as the phone rang once, rang twice.

"h.e.l.lo?" said a voice at the other end of the line. "Which service do you require-police, ambulance or fire?"

"Listen," Issie hissed, "I don't have much time. My phone is going dead. I need the police. This is Issie Brown. I'm down at the River Paddock near Waterstone Street and we need help..."

There was a dull buzz in her ear as once again the line cut out. Issie looked at the blinking red light. It was still flashing, so there must still be some juice left in the phone. Should she try again? She dialled the number once more. This time there was a dialling tone, the sound of a phone ringing and then nothing. Even the red light had stopped flashing now. There was nothing more that she could do. The battery was well and truly dead. Had the police got her message? There was no way of knowing.

Out there in the darkness, Avery was expecting help to arrive at any moment. He didn't know that the police might not be coming at all. She had to do something.

In the quiet night air the sound of the Range Rover door creaking open was almost deafening to her. She left the door hanging open, too afraid of the noise that shutting it might make, and crept forward from the car, staying low to the ground, sticking to the belt of trees that provided shadow cover.

Instead of climbing over the gate to get into the paddock, she slunk around behind the tack room and carefully, slowly, climbed over the wire paddock fence, using the wooden fence batons to balance herself. She landed lightly on the other side of the fence and there was a tw.a.n.g as a wire snapped back after being stretched by her foot during the climb.

"What was that?" she heard a voice say in the darkness, not more than ten metres away from her.

"What was what?" Another voice was talking now. "Probably just a possum. Don't worry about that, come over here. I finally caught that d.a.m.n horse. Let's get her on to the float."

The field was suddenly lit up as the headlights of the white van were turned on, and Issie could see the two men clearly. One of them, the one with the beard, was leading a horse. Her horse!

Into the shining white beams of the headlights now stepped Blaze. Even from this far away Issie could see the whites of her eyes showing with fear. Her ears, normally p.r.i.c.ked forward with excitement, were flat back against her head. As the man led her up to the ramp of the horse float she jerked back violently on the lead rope, trying desperately to back away.

"Stand still, you pig!" The man yanked the rope furiously, startling Blaze even further. "Stand still or I'll take the stick to you!"

He bent down to the side of the horse float, and when he stood up again Issie could see that he held a length of thick black rubber pipe in his hand. As he turned Blaze around to face the ramp of the float once more he lifted the rubber pipe in the air and brought it down hard and fast on the mare's flank.

Blaze let out a frightened squeal and jumped forward, not up the ramp of the horse float as the man had hoped, but out to the side of it. As she landed, her right hind leg caught on the edge of the ramp, grazing against it, and when she turned to face the ramp again Issie could see that she was bleeding. A steady trickle of dark red ran down her white hind sock.

"Give us a hand with this beast!" the fat, bearded man yelled to his mate who was sitting in the front cab of the white van waiting to drive off.

"Can't you sort it out yourself?" the skinny one whined as he came around the back of the horse float to help.

"Stand there!" the bearded man instructed, pointing to the side of the horse-float ramp. "That way she won't be able to escape to one side; she'll have no choice but to go on the float."

He turned Blaze again. This time as he went to lead her back towards the float, the chestnut mare reared up, pulling the lead rope almost out of his grip.

"That's it!" the man screamed with fury. "You're going on this float right now, or you're going to get the beating you deserve." He circled Blaze one more time, then, driving her towards the float, he lifted up the black length of pipe and brought it crashing down on her rump.

The final blow was too much for Issie to bear. She started to run forward, opened her mouth to shout out at the two men, to scream at them and make them stop hurting her horse. But before she could get a word out a hand covered her face from behind, and she felt the crushing weight of someone on top of her tackling her to the ground.

Issie tried to scream, but no sound could come out: her voice was stifled by the hand across her face.

"Shhh, shhh. It's OK. It's me," Avery growled in her ear. "Listen. I know you want to help Blaze, but this isn't the way. Stay where you are, stay quiet and trust me. Can you do that?"

Issie nodded mutely and Avery slowly removed his hand from her mouth. Together, the pair of them stayed on their bellies, lying flat on the ground and watched as Blaze, finally tired of the fight, placed one hoof after the other on to the ramp of the horse float and walked on board.

"Got her!" the bearded one said gleefully as he lifted up the tailgate behind her and closed the ramp, bolting Blaze in.

"Let's roll," he said to his friend, and the two men clambered back into the cab of the white van, ready to set off with their prize.

"Avery! We can't let them get away with this. We've got to stop them now!" Issie was almost in tears. The police hadn't arrived and these men had all but got away. They had to do something. She looked across at Avery who, strangely had a sly smile on his face.

"Don't worry" he said, "they're not going far."

A minute pa.s.sed, then another and another and still the two men in the white van didn't move. Then a door opened and Issie could hear the bearded man shouting, "The keys! The keys! How could you lose our keys? Well, come on, they've got to be here somewhere. Start looking!"

Issie looked at Avery in disbelief. "Tom, you didn't..."

Avery grinned and produced a set of shining silver car keys from his pocket. "I nicked them out of the ignition while the thin chap was helping to load Blaze into the float," he smirked. "They won't be getting far without these. Now all we have to do is wait for the police to turn up and..."

"Oh, Tom," Issie sighed, "that's the problem. I'm not sure that..."

Issie was about to explain the mobile drama when there was a sudden blare of a siren behind them and a flash of blue and red light. Two police cars had pulled up, blocking the exit at the paddock gate.

"The police!" Issie yelled. "They did get my message. They've come." Before Avery could say anything she was up off the ground and sprinting towards the police car.

With a sense of total relief, Issie watched as the rear door of the police car opened. She was about to blurt out the whole situation, explain to the police that they had to arrest these horse thieves who were trying to take her Blaze away. But as the figure emerged from the car, she found herself lost for words.

The person that stepped out of the police car wasn't a uniformed officer at all. It was her mother.

CHAPTER 14.

It was five a.m. by the time they all arrived back at Avery's farm house. Mrs Brown headed straight for the kitchen. "I think we could all do with a nice hot mug of tea," she said, "and once I've sorted that out, Isadora, you've got some explaining to do."

Issie sighed and collapsed on to Avery's living room sofa. At first, when she had seen her mother emerge from the police car she had been relieved. But relief had quickly turned to terror when she realised that she still hadn't told her about Blaze. Her mum was right. She did have some explaining to do.

Mrs Brown reappeared from the kitchen now, with three great steaming mugs of tea and some shortbread biscuits. "Is Tom back yet?" she asked her daughter.

"He shouldn't be much longer," Issie said. "He just had to give the police a few more details and then he was allowed to leave."

It already seemed as if they had been at the River Paddock for ever that evening. Once the police had arrived and the horse thieves had been taken away Issie and Avery had been left with a young constable to answer some questions. Then they had been able to unlatch the horse float and let Blaze back out again.

The chestnut mare was naturally a little upset after her ordeal. Issie had taken her for a walk to calm her down and it was during the walk that she noticed Blaze was lame. She was favouring her right hind leg, the one that had been injured on the horse-float ramp. Issie had put an antiseptic on the cut, and wrapped the wound in a soft bandage to keep it clean. Then she had put antiseptic cream on the two deep gashes on Blaze's rump caused by the blows with the black rubber pipe. Finally, she had mixed Blaze up a special late-night supper-a mix of oats, hard feed and pony pellets with a wedge of hay on the side-and put her in the pen near the tack room so she couldn't do her leg any more damage overnight.

All of this time her mother had sat quietly in Avery's Range Rover waiting for her. But Issie knew that eventually her mum's patience would run out and it would be time to answer a few questions.

"Ah, excellent! Tea!" Avery stepped through the door, shedding his heavy jacket and boots in the corner of the kitchen. "Well done, Mrs B."

"I don't mind making the tea, Tom," Mrs Brown said, "as long as you don't mind explaining what you and my daughter were doing at that horse paddock in the middle of the night."

"Well," Avery began, "I've been talking to the police and it turns out that those two chaps they've caught are in fact Blaze's owners. That is, the ones that were mistreating her when the horse protection society found her. They must have seen Issie out riding on her and realised it was their horse and tried to steal her back again. Of course they've got no legal right to her. A complaint has already been lodged against them for what they did to Blaze and by rights they'll never be allowed to own any horse ever again. Although I'm still not completely convinced that they ever really owned one in the first place," he added.

"Blaze's bloodlines seem to be Anglo-Arab and I wouldn't be surprised if she's worth a lot of money..." Avery mused "...a lot of money. In fact, she's such a valuable mare, I suspect those men had already stolen her from someone else before we found her and saved her. I got the police to check their records to see if there had been a report of a horse theft that fits Blaze's description, but there was nothing on file.

"Naturally I told the officer that we'll be pressing charges over this whole matter. Horse thieves are bad enough, but people who abuse their horses are even worse," Avery growled.

"I'm sorry," Mrs Brown looked puzzled, "I still don't understand. What does all this have to do with Isadora?"

"Well," Avery said, failing to notice Issie making frantic gestures at him, "Blaze is her horse of course! She's done a fantastic job nursing her back to health after we recovered her from those criminals."

"Is that true, Isadora?" Mrs Brown looked at her daughter.

"I was going to tell you, Mum, honest," Issie pleaded, "only you were still angry at me for getting my belly b.u.t.ton pierced. And then after that the time never seemed quite right. And then after I'd left it for a while, I didn't know how to bring it up. I mean, what could I say? I've owned a horse for three months now without mentioning it to you?"

"What?" Avery sputtered. "You mean you never told your mother about Blaze? Mrs B! I'm so sorry. I never bothered to tell you myself because I a.s.sumed that Issie had asked you and it was all OK..."

"Of course you did, Tom. Don't worry. It's not your fault. You, on the other hand," she exclaimed, turning to Issie, "I can't believe you! What if something had happened to you while you were out riding? Horses are dangerous, Isadora. You don't just charge off by yourself to go riding without telling me!

"And speaking of charging off..." Mrs Brown looked suspicious. "How did you get here in the middle of the night anyway? And how did you know those men would choose tonight to try to steal the horse?"

A chill pa.s.sed over Issie. Mystic! Where was he? She had left him outside in the driveway just next to the stables when she came to find Avery. The horse must have trotted off across the courtyard into the shadows by the stable block as Issie ran for the front door. And she hadn't seen him since. Now, sitting here in a brightly-lit living room, sipping tea and talking to her mum, she knew how ridiculous it would sound if she told the truth. The truth. That her horse, the horse that was supposed to be dead, had come to her bedroom window and warned her of danger. That she had ridden him bareback in pitch blackness halfway across town to catch the thieves, and that she now had no idea where he was, that he had disappeared.

"I rode, umm...I rode my bike here," Issie replied weakly, looking down into her tea cup.

"In the middle of the night? All the way across town? Issie, you could have been hit by a car!" Mrs Brown let out an exasperated gasp. "Look, I'm too tired to even begin discussing this here and now. We'll get to the bottom of it all tomorrow. Right now I think we should be getting home to try and get some sleep before it starts getting light." She stood up and pa.s.sed her half-finished tea back to Avery.

"Thanks for the tea, Tom. We'll come back in the morning to pick up Isadora's bike, and I'll talk to you then about what is to be done with this horse that you've given my daughter." She paused. "Not too early in the morning, though; I imagine we'll all want a bit of a sleep-in after this. It isn't every night I get a wake-up call from the police dragging me out of bed at three a.m. and hopefully," she turned and frowned at Isadora, "I won't be getting any more calls in future."

Thankfully, Mrs Brown seemed content to let the whole Blaze affair drop during the car ride home. And after the evening's excitement Issie was grateful to slink off to her bedroom. She found herself falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. But instead of sleeping in, she was up again just a couple of hours later as soon as the dawn light came flooding in her window. In the dark last night it had been hard to tell just how serious Blaze's injuries really were. And with the one-day event now just a few days away she had to find out whether her horse was still fit enough to compete.

Of course there was another reason for getting up early. Last night Issie had lied to her mum, telling her that she rode her bike around to Avery's house. She could hardly tell her mother the truth, that she had galloped there bareback on a ghost horse in the middle of the night. In fact, she didn't even know if she believed the truth herself.

No, in this case it was definitely better to tell a white lie. The problem was, Mrs Brown was expecting to go around to Avery's later this morning and pick up the bike. The very same bike that was already parked exactly where it had been all along-right here at home in the corner of the garage.

The solution, Issie decided, was to leave her mum a note saying that she was walking over to Avery's to pick the bike up by herself. Then, instead of going to Winterflood Farm, she would cycle straight down to the horse paddock, check on Blaze and cycle home again.

Issie was feeling smug about her plan as she walked down the stairs to the front door. Until she saw her mother nursing a cup of coffee and flicking through the paper at the kitchen table.

"Up already?" Mrs Brown spotted her daughter heading for the door. "I'll put on some toast for you and make you a cup of tea and then we can go and pick up your bike."

"Ummm, thanks, Mum." Issie sat down reluctantly. Her plan was already falling apart and she hadn't even left the house yet!

"Isadora," her mother began, "I know I should be mad at you for what happened last night. G.o.d knows I should be furious that you've been riding this horse all this time and not telling me about it! But..." she paused to pour hot water into the teapot, "I guess in a way I can understand it. After the way I reacted to your belly-b.u.t.ton thingamy-gig it's no wonder you were too scared to tell me about Blaze."

She sat down now and faced her daughter.

"I'm not saying that you were right to tear off and get your body pierced without telling me. Or worse yet, get a horse and fail to mention it for months! But maybe if I hadn't overreacted about that ring in your tummy. Or maybe if your father was still here..." Mrs Brown took her daughter's hand. "Issie, I know that since your dad left things have been tough, but we're getting on OK, aren't we? I'm on your side, remember that. I want you to feel that you can tell me anything, honey, OK?"

Issie nodded. Anything. Yeah right. She was sure "anything" didn't include going for midnight gallops on ghost horses. Still, her mother had a point.

"I do, Mum. And I'm sorry." Issie held her breath. Might as well ask now, she thought. "If you're not mad at me does that mean I can keep Blaze?"

"Well, if you've really managed to do such great things with her the way Tom says you have, I don't see how we have any choice." Mrs Brown smiled. "She must be a beautiful horse if those men wanted her so badly they were willing to steal her."

"She's perfect!" Issie glowed. And she started to tell her mother about how difficult Blaze had been to begin with, and how she had won her trust, and how the pair of them had been training for the one-day event.

"It's this weekend, so I hope Blaze's leg will heal in time. That's why I want to go down to the horse paddock this morning and check on her," Issie explained.

"What about your bike?" Mrs Brown said. "We can pick it up from Tom's on the way to the paddock."

"No!" Issie squawked. "I mean, if you drop me at the paddock I'll walk up to Winterflood Farm after I'm finished with Blaze and then I can ride the bike home."

"Well, OK. If that's what you'd prefer," Mrs Brown agreed.

And so, that afternoon Issie found herself walking the long roads back home from the horse paddock to her house, pretending to return a bike that was already safely locked up where it had always been, in the garage at her house.

At least, she thought to herself as she trudged along, at least Blazes wound seems to be healing well. In fact when she had checked on the chestnut mare she seemed to be in fine spirits and was hardly favouring her injured leg at all. The chances were she would be well enough to compete at the one-day event. But with just days left, and lameness ruining their chances of fitting in any more training sessions, the question remained-was Blaze ready to go out there and win?

CHAPTER 15.

In front of the green canvas marquee a crowd was beginning to gather. The judges had posted the dressage scores on a large whiteboard on the side of the tent and the riders were jostling about, trying to see over one another's heads, to check out how well they had done.

Stella, who had already pushed her way to the front of the crowd, peered hard at the board. "Let's see," she said, "novice dressage tests, group three...now where are we..." Her eyes scanned the board and then suddenly she let out a whoop of delight. "Issie, Issie," she yelled, racing across the field towards the area where the horse trucks were parked.

Issie was busily bandaging Blaze's tendons in preparation for the cross-country when she heard Stella hollering out her name.

"Issie! You'll never believe it," Stella panted with exhaustion as she reached her friend. "I'm coming fourth out of the whole novice cla.s.s. Fourth place in dressage-can you believe it?"

Before Issie had a chance to answer Stella was off again, "And that's not all. Guess what? You're coming second! Isn't that cool?"

"I don't believe it!" Issie was stunned. "Do you hear that, girl?" she said to Blaze, who was busy making short work of her breakfast hay net. "We're in second place."

After all they had been through in the past week, Issie was amazed to be here at all. Yesterday the vet had arrived at the River Paddock, given Blaze's hind leg a final checkup and p.r.o.nounced her perfectly sound. And today, here they were-riding at their first one-day event.

This morning in the dressage ring Blaze and Issie had managed to put the past week behind them and performed a perfect test. Even so, Issie could scarcely have hoped for such a result. After all, there were nearly sixty riders here today competing in her cla.s.s.

"Did you see who's coming first?" Issie asked the overexcited Stella.

"You're not going to believe this one either," Stella groaned. "It's Natasha. She's in first place on fifty-nine points. You're right behind her on sixty-one."