Runaway Pony

  First published in 1996 by Usborne Publishing Ltd, Usborne House,

  83-85 Saffron Hill, London EC1N 8RT, England.

  www.usborne.com

  Copyright © 2012, 2009, 2003, 1996 Usborne Publishing Ltd.

  The name Usborne and the devices are the Trade Marks of Usborne Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or used in any way except as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or loaned or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Epub ISBN 9781409554936

  Kindle ISBN 9781409554943

  Batch no. 01489-01

  CONTENTS

  Maps

  1. The runaway pony

  2. Nick has some news

  3. Jumping lesson

  4. Jess is sorry

  5. Near disaster

  6. A turn of events

  7. Ash Hill Horse Sale

  8. Explanations

  9. Southdown at last!

  10. Striking gold

  11. Showjumping

  12. Runaway returns

  More Sandy Lane Stables books

  Maps to print out

  You can print out copies of the Sandy Lane Stables maps at the Usborne Quicklinks Website. Go to www.usborne-quicklinks.com and enter the keywords 'Sandy Lane Stables'.

  1

  THE RUNAWAY PONY

  Jess Adams free-wheeled her bicycle down the gentle hill. “No more school!” she cheered as she sped past the fields. “Hooray for the Easter holidays!”

  She turned sharply into the drive of Sandy Lane Stables and skidded the bike to a halt. It was early morning, not quite seven o’clock, and no one else was around. Only the ponies were awake, shuffling in their stalls and whinnying softly for their breakfasts. Jess cast a glance at the little stone cottage tucked away behind the stables.

  “I bet Nick and Sarah won’t be up for hours,” she said to herself.

  Nick and Sarah Brooks were the owners of Sandy Lane. Last night had been a rare evening off. They had gone to a ball.

  “It’s in aid of the Horse Rescue Society,” Sarah had said as she twirled excitedly around the stable yard, the emerald satin of her borrowed ball-gown matching her green eyes.

  “You’ll probably be dancing till midnight,” Jess had sighed. “Sipping pink champagne and slurping caviar.”

  “Probably,” Nick had said as he adjusted his black bow tie.

  “And you’re bound to be back very late and be terribly tired in the morning,” Jess had continued, forking the last of the hay into Minstrel’s hay net. “So perhaps I ought to come in early and start the ponies’ breakfasts for you. And then maybe...”

  “...Maybe you could have a free ride later on in the day?” Nick smiled and finished the sentence off for her. Money was tight in Jess’s family since her dad had lost his job. There wasn’t much spare cash for her riding lessons.

  “You can have the eleven o’clock hack for free,” Nick had said in an understanding voice. “I’ll even try to be up and about early tomorrow morning to give you a hand...”

  That was last night. And now it was morning and Nick wasn’t up. But Jess had learnt a lot in the two years she had been coming to Sandy Lane. She certainly knew enough to start getting the ponies ready for the day.

  “Perhaps Nick will even let me ride you this afternoon, you beautiful pony,” she said as she drew nearer to Storm Cloud’s stable.

  Storm Cloud, a dappled-grey Arab, greeted Jess eagerly, poking her delicate, dished face over the stable door. Jess slipped her the sugar lump she had been saving especially. She had never seen a pony so breathtaking.

  She thought back to the day Nick had first found Storm Cloud at the Ash Hill Horse Sale. Storm Cloud had been weak and neglected, but even then Nick had been able to see the pony’s potential. And with love and patience, he had brought her back to her former glory. She was a natural jumper and it wouldn’t be long before she was competing.

  In Jess’s mind, Storm Cloud was the best pony at the stables. She might look fragile, but she was really gutsy and strong-willed. Whenever Jess had been lucky enough to ride her, she had felt as though they had the potential to do anything; jump any fence, outrun any other pony. She loved to imagine jumping Storm Cloud in a show and riding off with the championship trophy, although she had never told anyone else this dream. It was her secret.

  “What a team we’d make, eh Stormy?” Jess whispered into the pony’s ear. Storm Cloud neighed gently in reply and at the same time, Jess heard a whinny from a nearby stable. She grinned as Minstrel, the little skewbald pony, showed his big yellow teeth and rolled the whites of his eyes at her.

  “Don’t worry Minstrel,” Jess laughed. “I haven’t forgotten about you.”

  Minstrel was Jess’s regular pony at Sandy Lane – the one she rode the most. He was a good, solid riding school pony and Jess was very fond of him.

  “I expect I’ll be riding you later on, Minstrel,” Jess began as she made her way over to the pony’s stall. “Bet you can’t wait...”

  “Come here!”

  Angry shouting and the crunch of hooves on gravel stopped Jess in her tracks and made her spin around sharply. Careering towards her down the drive, wild-eyed with fear and long tail flying behind, was a palomino pony. It was completely out of control. Jess’s heart began to pound and her breath came in sharp gasps, but almost without thinking she held out her arms.

  “Whoa, little pony,” she said, as calmly as she could. “Slow down.”

  Jess stood her ground and now the pony was only inches away from her. At the sound of Jess’s voice it clattered to a halt. It dropped its head and nuzzled a velvety nose into Jess’s shoulder. Jess sighed with relief. The next moment she had located a stray mint in the depths of her jodhpur pocket. Gingerly she fished it out and offered it to the palomino. The pony, a pretty little mare of about 14 hands, crunched contentedly. For a brief moment, girl and pony stood nose to nose talking softly to one another, the white gold of the pony’s mane contrasting sharply with Jess’s own dark curls.

  “Come back you!” A stocky man ran into the yard. His face was red from shouting and he was panting hard. In his hand he waved a muddy head collar. The pony started, but Jess calmed it with a steadying hand.

  When the man saw Jess he gasped. “Thanks! Thanks a lot. You’ve saved my bacon.”

  “That’s all right,” Jess said, trying to sound as if catching runaway ponies was something she did every day.

  “Well you were very brave,” the man acknowledged. “It can’t have been easy standing your ground like that.”

  Jess shrugged her shoulders in what she hoped was a casual way. She couldn’t help stealing a glance at the cottage in case Nick or Sarah happened to be looking out. She was sure they would have been impressed by her actions. But there was still no sign of them.

  The pony butted her nose against Jess’s shoulder. Jess laughed.

  “She’s lovely,” she cried, gently pulling the pony’s ears. “What’s her name?”

  “Um...Goldie.” The man leaned forward and put his hands on his knees. He took deep breaths. “Because her coat shimmers like gold,” he finished.

  “She
looks as precious as gold, too. Don’t you, pretty girl?” Jess turned to the pony again.

  “She may look like an angel,” the man agreed crossly. “But she’s a devil to catch. I was trying to load her into the horse box when she took flight. I’m parked miles back up the road...”

  “She probably caught the scent of the horses here and decided to investigate,” said Jess.

  “You could be right,” the man replied. “It’s a good job you were here to stop her. She’s not my pony...she belongs to my daughter. I’m no good with the animal–” the man stopped abruptly. “Anyway, I can’t stand around here chatting all day. I’ve got to get this pony back.” He moved swiftly towards the palomino who started and shied.

  “She won’t be caught,” he muttered.

  “Here, let me try,” said Jess, holding out her hand for the head collar. Talking gently to the pony and murmuring words of encouragement, she stroked the mare’s nose firmly with her left hand while deftly slipping on the head collar with her right. Goldie didn’t flinch. Taking the lead rein in her hand, Jess turned back to the man as he let out a low whistle.

  “Well done. You’ve been a real help. A real help,” he repeated softly. He tugged at the lead rein and this time the pony trotted obediently behind.

  Jess stood watching as they disappeared out of sight. Now they had gone she felt strangely deflated. She thought of all the other questions she had wanted to ask the man. Where was Goldie kept? Why didn’t his daughter catch the pony herself?

  Minstrel whinnied loudly from his stall, cutting into her thoughts.

  “All right boy.” Jess dragged her mind away from the palomino. “It’s breakfast time. Now, what shall it be this morning? Hay or bacon and eggs?”

  2

  NICK HAS SOME NEWS

  “Finish up your cereal for goodness sake, Jess.” Her mother looked on in exasperation as Jess pushed the soggy corn flakes around the bowl.

  “Sorry Mum, I was miles away.” Jess lifted her head from her hand and yawned loudly. Going to the stables so early and having to come home for breakfast had been more tiring than she’d imagined.

  “What time did you leave the house this morning?” her mother asked, shaking her head.

  “Six...Six thirty,” Jess answered nonchalantly.

  “And on the first day of the holidays, as well.” Her brother, Jack, looked up from his toast with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. “You’re mad, Jess.”

  Jess’s mother sighed loudly and continued her lecture. “You spend far too much time at that stables, Jess. I hope you don’t think you’re going to be down there every day of the holidays. What about your homework?”

  Jess sank down in her chair. She knew it was no good trying to explain how utterly and totally necessary ponies were to her life. Instead she gobbled down the rest of her cereal and bolted for the door.

  “I’ve got a ride at eleven. It’s free,” she explained hastily, “in return for the work I did this morning.”

  Her mother accepted defeat. “Oh Jess...if only you spent as much time on your school work as you did at that stables,” she sighed. “Don’t be back late.”

  “I won’t,” Jess promised. “See you later. Bye!”

  Jess grabbed her bicycle from the tiny front garden and tried to put her mother’s remarks out of her mind. She didn’t want to think about school work – not now...not when the sun was shining and there were ponies to ride. As she cycled away from her house in Colcott, she thought again about Goldie, the palomino pony that had run into Sandy Lane that morning. Soon she had drifted off into a daydream. In her mind she wasn’t pedalling along the road to Sandy Lane, but cantering cross-country. As she swung into the stable yard the rusty red bicycle beneath her was a beautiful pony. Just the lightest touch on the reins was all that was needed...

  “Look out!”

  Jess snapped awake from her dream just in time to see her friend, Tom, wheeling a barrow full of hay directly across her path. She slammed on the brakes and her trusty steed, now a rusty red bicycle once more, swerved to the left and screeched to a halt.

  “Phew. That was a close one,” Jess gasped, just managing to stay upright on her bike. She blushed madly. “Sorry Tom, I was miles away.”

  “That’s OK,” Tom grinned and pushed away the strand of brown hair that had fallen across his face. He walked off, whistling softly to himself.

  Jess shook her head. Of all the people to look clumsy in front of, why did it have to be Tom? He was easily the best rider at Sandy Lane. He even had his own horse, Chancey, who was kept at half-livery at Sandy Lane. Although Chancey was ridden by everyone, he really only had eyes for Tom. Jess sighed, turning her bicycle towards the tack room.

  “Hey Jess, hang on a moment!” Her best friend, Rosie, came pedalling up the drive, her blonde ponytail flying in the breeze. “Have you been here all morning?”

  “No, I went home for breakfast,” Jess smiled.

  “Did you earn yourself a free ride?” Rosie asked.

  “Yes. I’m going on the eleven o’clock hack. And something else happened too,” Jess said to Rosie. “I made friends with a new pony.”

  “A new pony?” Rosie was immediately interested. “Where? Whose?”

  “It was a palomino mare,” Jess began. “Her name’s Goldie. She came running into the yard.”

  “A palomino,” Rosie sighed. “How lovely.”

  “I had to hold out my arms and stop her, Rosie,” Jess said proudly. “She was charging towards me, really really fast.”

  “Lucky she didn’t trample you,” Rosie shivered. “Why was she running into Sandy Lane anyway?”

  Jess explained about the man chasing the palomino. “The pony belongs to his daughter. He didn’t seem to know much about it at all...”

  Now they had reached the fence beside the tack room. All the regular junior Sandy Lane riders chained their bicycles here. There was Tom’s green racer, and Charlie’s smart and shiny black mountain bike too. Rosie parked her bike neatly and Jess dumped hers down on the ground next to it.

  “Come on you two, stack those bikes properly.” Nick Brooks appeared on the steps of the tack room, blinking painfully in the bright April sunshine. “This is a stables, not a junk yard.”

  “Oops, my fault,” said Jess, swiftly straightening the stack.

  “Sorry I wasn’t up to help you out this morning, Jess,” Nick smiled ruefully. “I think I’m getting too old for this dancing-all-night lark. My legs are killing me,” he groaned. “Anyway I’ve managed to put the list for the eleven o’clock ride up on the notice board. You’re on Minstrel.” Nick wandered off across the stable yard, limping slightly.

  “I hope I’m on Pepper,” Rosie said as she followed Jess into the tack room. “Brilliant,” she continued as she ran her hand down the list of riders and ponies and saw her name next to Pepper’s.

  “I don’t know what you see in that pony,” Jess wrinkled up her nose. “He’s so stubborn.”

  “Only with everyone else,” Rosie reasoned. “He’s always been a dream with me.”

  “It’s because you’re such a fantastic rider,” Charlie teased as he entered the tack room, running a hand through his grubby blond hair. Rosie gave an embarrassed laugh, but Jess was quiet. Charlie was right about Rosie. She was a fantastic rider, even if she was too modest to admit it.

  Jess didn’t begrudge Rosie her riding ability. She was pleased for her best friend, but she couldn’t help feeling envious of Rosie’s skill, which lay in her calmness and poise. When Rosie sat on a horse she looked completely in control.

  Not like me, Jess thought now. Hands flapping everywhere, feet slipping out of the stirrups.

  “You’re a good rider, Jess,” Nick had often commented, “But it’s your style that lets you down. Try and be slightly less messy when you ride.”

  Rosie was never messy, thought Jess. She was neat, and patient too. Perhaps that’s why Pepper responded so well to her.

  But I had patience this morning,
Jess thought to herself. And I was calm, too. I couldn’t have stopped that runaway pony if I hadn’t been...

  “Hey!” Jess’s thoughts were interrupted as Rosie tapped her lightly with a crop.

  “You’re meant to be using that on the ponies, not me!” Jess said indignantly.

  “You need a bit of waking up today, Jess,” Rosie laughed. “I must have asked you five times to pass the hoof pick. Didn’t you hear me? Come on, it’s almost eleven. We’ll be late for our hack.”

  “Sorry. I was dreaming of that beautiful palomino.”

  “I wonder why we’ve never seen her around here before,” Rosie said as they left the tack room. “Is she stabled nearby?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jess admitted as they reached Minstrel’s stable. She paused at the door and absent-mindedly patted the skewbald’s neck. He bent his head and pushed his nose into her shoulder.

  Rosie moved away towards Pepper’s stall. “I’d better get a move on,” she called. “See you when I’ve tacked up. What did you do with that hoof pick by the way?”

  “What? Oh, it’s still in my hand, sorry.” Jess handed the pick to Rosie and unbolted Minstrel’s door. She tacked him up quickly and went to join the rest of the ride in the stable yard. Tom was there on the back of Chancey and Charlie waved down at Jess from Napoleon, a huge horse of 16.2 hands.

  “My dad took me out to dinner at that new restaurant near Ash Hill last night,” Charlie called as he leant forward in the saddle. “You know, the one where they play all those music videos in the background. It was amazing.”

  Jess flashed Charlie a smile. He was always trying to impress, but she didn’t mind. She knew things hadn’t been too easy for him since the divorce. He didn’t see much of his dad these days.

  “Sounds great,” she said. “Lucky you.”

  “Come on you lot,” a voice interrupted their conversation.

  It was Sarah. She was taking the hack out and waited patiently by the gate. There were dark shadows under her eyes, but she was smiling happily. “Let’s get going.”