Liberty and the Dream Ride. Stacy Gregg
standing before him. “He’s a cute little guy, isn’t he?” he said. “Where are you taking him?”
“Lexington, Kentucky,” Issie said. “We’re competing in the Four-Star.”
“You’re kidding!”
“He’s only a pony,” Issie said, “but he’s more impressive on the cross-country than he looks.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Marcus said. “It’s a coincidence, that’s all. I’m riding at Kentucky too.”
From inside Marcus’s truck there came a whinny as if to confirm this, followed by the sound of hooves moving restlessly, thudding against the rubber-matting floor.
“I think my mare is tired of being cooped up,” Marcus said. “I’d better unload her.”
He lowered the truck ramp and the girls got a rear view of the mare’s long silvery blonde tail and chocolate brown legs dressed in hock-high white sheepskin floating boots.
Marcus made gentle clucking noises at the mare to get her moving down the ramp, although she hardly needed much encouragement. After being on the road for so long she almost bounded off, her head held high and erect, nostrils wide with excitement as she sniffed the air and looked around.
Issie couldn’t believe how pretty she was. The mare had a long silver-blonde mane that matched her lustrous tail, and her coat was a delicious cocoa colour with dapples in the chocolate on her rump and over her shoulders.
“She’s unusual-looking, isn’t she?” Marcus said as the girls stared at the mare. “She’s a silver dapple.”
Stella wrinkled her nose. “She looks more like chocolate to me.”
“That’s just what they call it,” Marcus said. “A chocolate coat and a silver mane and tail. She’s got three white socks underneath those floating boots too.”
He ran a hand over the mare’s neck. “My groom Annie is supposed to keep her mane short so that it’s easy to plait for competitions, but she keeps letting it grow long because it’s too pretty to pull.”
Issie looked at the long forelock hanging down over the mare’s eyes. “You should at least trim her forelock. I’m surprised she can even see the jumps from underneath all that hair!”
The mare seemed to know that everyone was talking about her. She moved about anxiously, her sheepskin-booted legs never staying still for more than a second. As she watched the mare strutting about, Issie put aside the mare’s striking colour and examined her conformation with a cool, professional eye. The horse was a good size, about sixteen hands high, but lightly built with a lean frame and long legs that were perfect for travelling fast across country. Her shoulders had a perfect slope – the mark of a good mover – and she had exceptionally powerful hindquarters. It was the mare’s face that Issie liked best, though. She had dainty white markings, a tiny white star beneath her silver-blonde forelock, and at the end of her muzzle there was a cute white snip as if she had dipped her nose into a pot of paint and then thought better of it. Her liquid brown eyes were wide set and intelligent.
“What’s her name?” Issie asked.
“Valmont Liberty,” said Marcus. “Valmont is the name of the stable that owns her – her name is Liberty.”
As they’d been talking, Liberty had taken a good look around and now her eyes were locked on Comet. The skewbald gelding was being held by Stella just a few metres away and he was fidgeting at the end of the lead rope, keen to meet this newcomer.
“You wanna say hello, boy?” Stella led him forward so that he was close enough to greet the mare nose-to-nose.
“Watch it,” Marcus warned. “She’s a typical mare – she can be pretty grumpy around other horses.”
As she touched muzzles with the gelding, Liberty’s ears flattened back and she let out a guttural squeal, making it clear that she wasn’t the slightest bit convinced about being friends.
But Comet wasn’t to be deterred. He thrust his nose out and nickered to the mare. Liberty had her ears hard back against her head, warning him off, but Comet kept his ears resolutely pricked forward, his eyes shining as he nickered to her again, trying to start a conversation. The mare stomped a hoof, her tail thrashed objectionably. She held her nose in the air, staring at this impertinent skewbald as if he were a commoner trying to make friends with a queen.
“She’s not very friendly, is she?” Issie said.
“Oh, she’s all right once you get to know her,” Marcus insisted, giving the mare a firm pat on her glossy neck. He smiled at Issie. “Just like me, really.”
The stalls for the horses at The Hacienda were a collection of covered yards, built in a U-shape around a dusty central courtyard behind the main building of the motel. Each of the covered yards was bordered by wooden railings and the floors of the stalls were covered in wood shavings for bedding. It was nice and clean, but it certainly wasn’t fancy, Issie thought. Comet would be fine here – but a horse like Liberty was probably used to a life of luxury – a proper, elegant loose box.
“We should put the partition gate in between them tonight—” Marcus began to say as he led Liberty into the stalls, but before he could finish his sentence the mare intentionally swung her rump towards Comet and flung out a hind leg, taking a swift and vicious kick at the gelding, which thankfully missed its target. “I can’t risk Liberty getting injured.”
Issie frowned. “I think she can take care of herself.”
Marcus shook his head. “The Valmont stables would freak out if they even knew Liberty was sharing her stall with another horse. They’re very uptight about this mare. Mr Valmont doesn’t even call her by her name – she’s worth so much money that he refers to her as ‘The Asset’.”
“And they let you travel with her by yourself?”
“It was a last-minute thing. I was supposed to have Annie, my groom, with me to help out,” Marcus said. “But Mr Valmont was short-staffed and kept her back at the stables. He’s supposed to be hiring a new groom to meet up with me once I reach Kentucky. It’s all right being on the road alone, though, I really don’t mind.”
“So you ride for this… Valmont Stables?” Issie asked.
“Uh-huh,” Marcus said. “Valmont are a massive operation with lots of horses. I was considering moving back to England when my old riding instructor from boarding school phoned up and said she’d organised the ride on Liberty for me. That was six months ago and I’ve been working at the Valmont ranch in California ever since.”
While Marcus slotted in the gate down the middle of the stall, Issie held on to Comet and Liberty. As soon as Marcus had locked the gate into place she let Comet loose in his stall, and then let Liberty go right next door.
Marcus looked at his watch. “Would you mind keeping an eye on her while she eats her feed? I better go back to my room and charge my mobile. I called Mr Valmont before to let him know where we are and the phone died. He likes to keep track of The Asset – he gets nervous if I don’t call him while we’re travelling.”
“No problem,” Issie said. “I’ve got to stay and make sure Comet settles in OK anyway.”
“See you in the morning then?” Marcus said. “There’s a diner just up the road. Maybe we can meet there for an early breakfast before we hit the road?”
“That sounds great,” Issie said. “And thanks again for sharing Liberty’s stall with me.”
They watched as Comet craned his neck over the partition gate trying to get Liberty to notice him, but the mare steadfastly ignored his overtures and turned her rump on him so she was facing the corner of her stall.
“Give it up, Comet,” Issie said as she turned out the light. “She’s just not that into you.”
Even with