Storm and the Silver Bridle. Stacy Gregg

She was dressed in crisp white jodhpurs, long black boots and a black shirt. Her face was hidden behind dark glasses and the dramatic sweep of her long dark hair, but that didn’t matter. Issie had recognised her even before she caught a glimpse of her features.

      “You came!” Issie’s face broke into a broad grin as she ran towards the woman. “I hadn’t heard anything for so long, I had almost given up!”

      The woman, who had been gently stroking the colt’s muzzle, whispered something to the young horse and let go of the halter. She stepped forward to greet Issie, giving her two brisk kisses, one on each cheek, just as the French always do, before wrapping her in her arms in the most enormous hug.

      “Isadora!” the woman cried. “Bonjour! It is so good to see you once again!”

      Issie couldn’t believe it. It was Francoise D’arth. The famed French horsewoman, head rider of El Caballo Danza Magnifico, here at Chevalier Point!

      The last time Francoise had arrived in Chevalier Point with her troupe of dancing Lipizzaners and Anglo-Arabians she had turned Issie’s world upside down.

      Francoise had recognised Blaze—only she said her name wasn’t Blaze at all, it was Salome and she belonged to El Caballo Danza Magnifico. The mare had been stolen and now they wanted her back. Issie hadn’t wanted to believe her, but Francoise had proof. The Frenchwoman was amazed that she had found the mare again. Issie had no choice but to agree to return her. She was totally devastated when Francoise took Blaze away. Then, just when Issie thought she’d lost her beloved mare forever, Blaze was unexpectedly returned to her once more. Francoise claimed that “a mysterious benefactor” had paid handsomely for the mare, with instructions that Blaze be given back to Issie.

      Issie had never discovered who this “benefactor” was, or why they had bought her horse back. Whoever it was, she owed them a great debt and she knew it. Blaze was hers for always now. And despite all that had happened, Issie still considered Francoise to be her friend. After all, Francoise didn’t own El Caballo Danza Magnifico—she just worked for them. Francoise loved horses as much as Issie did—she was the one who had trained Blaze and she truly understood just how special the bond was between Issie and her pony.

      When Issie had found out that Blaze was pregnant and Marius was the father she had written immediately to Francoise D’arth to tell her the exciting news. Francoise hadn’t replied, but Issie figured that was because she was away on tour with El Caballo Danza Magnifico. After Storm was born, Issie had written to Francoise again, sending photos this time—and still no reply. And now, suddenly out of the blue, here she was!

      Francoise turned her gaze to the bay colt. “He is beautiful, Isadora. Everything you said about him in your letters was true.” She ran her hand down Storm’s legs, feeling the strength of his bone and muscle. She could not hide the fact that she was impressed by this colt. “He is even more beautiful than in your photos. This horse is destined for greatness.”

      “I’m glad you like him,” said a rather stern voice. Issie turned round to see Tom Avery standing behind her. “Well, this is a surprise!” Avery said with a tone that indicated it was not an entirely pleasant one. “What are you doing here, Francoise?”

      “Tom!” Francoise smiled warmly. “It is good to see you again. It has been too long.” She stepped forward and greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks. Avery’s face betrayed little emotion as he waited for Francoise to continue.

      “When I got Isadora’s letter telling me that Blaze was in foal to Marius I was so happy,” Francoise said. “Then I received the next letter, saying that a foal had been born, and well, of course I was very intrigued. I had to come and meet this colt.”

      “Really?” Avery cocked an eyebrow at her. Issie noticed that he still wasn’t smiling. “Is that all, Francoise? It’s a long way to come just to say hello. I have a feeling that there is something you aren’t telling us.”

      Francoise’s cheery smile faded and was replaced by a rather more serious expression.

      “Oui. Yes. You are right, Tom. There is more to tell you—and much that we need to talk about.”

      “I thought there might be,” Avery said. “El Caballo Danza Magnifico wouldn’t send you all the way here just to check on this colt.”

      Francoise nodded. “You are right.” She looked at the colt standing in front of her. “I was told to come here and see for myself whether this young horse was indeed the son of Marius.” Francoise paused. “I was told that if Nightstorm had the same great conformation and temperament as his sire then I was to pay as much as you asked and bring him home to Spain.”

      “Francoise, I don’t understand.” Issie looked shocked. “You mean you want to buy Nightstorm?”

      “Oui, Isadora,” Francoise nodded. “El Caballo Danza Magnifico have told me that I must—and at any price!”

      “But he’s my horse! You can’t—” Issie began, but Francoise interrupted her.

      “Please, Isadora, be calm and listen,” she implored.

      “The people I work for are very wealthy. They are offering you a great deal of money. This colt, your Nightstorm, is the progeny of their best stallion Marius, and you know that your mare Blaze was once their most favoured of all. You can see how valuable a colt like this might be to the stable…”

      “I don’t care!” Issie said. She could feel the panic rising in her. She looked pleadingly at her instructor. “Tom? She has no right to take him away from me, does she?”

      Avery’s frown had deepened, but he said nothing. Issie felt as if her throat had closed over and she couldn’t breathe. She was choking as she tried to force the words out.

      “Tom!” Her voice was trembling now as she spoke. “Tell her! Storm is mine. They can’t do this to me, not again!”

      Issie had every reason to be nervous and she knew it. After all, she thought to herself, the last time Francoise D’arth came to Chevalier Point I almost lost Blaze. Now the Frenchwoman was back and Issie felt her world spiralling out of control once more. Would she lose Storm too?

       Chapter 3

      Tom Avery wasn’t the sort of riding instructor who liked to raise his voice. He never shouted at his pupils; instead he spoke to them with measured, calm authority. It was this very same tone that he used now as he addressed Francoise D’arth.

      “Isadora is right, Francoise,” Avery said. “The colt is not for sale. I’m sorry you wasted your time on this trip, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to go back to El Caballo and explain that Nightstorm can’t be bought—at any price.”

      Francoise nodded solemnly. “If that is your decision I will accept it. But you do not understand everything yet—there is so much more I need to tell you both. We must talk further. May I come and see you again at the farm tomorrow?”

      “There’s no point in trying to change our minds,” Avery said, “but you are our friend, Francoise, and you’re welcome any time at Winterflood Farm.”

      Francoise smiled at this. “Thank you. I shall come over in the morning then, yes? At about nine?”

      She glanced again at Nightstorm. The colt had begun to sense that something was going on. His nostrils were flared and he was pawing at the ground anxiously. As Issie reached for his halter to calm him, Nightstorm pulled back and let out a shrill whinny, his head held high and proud.

      “Easy, Storm,” Issie soothed, stroking his muzzle as the colt trembled with excitement beneath her hands.

      “He is restless,” Francoise said softly. “It is time for him to go home, yes?” She looked pointedly at Avery as she said this.

      He nodded