A Horse for the Summer Read online

  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 9781409554974

  Kindle ISBN 9781409554981

  Batch no. 01484-02

  CONTENTS

  Maps

  1. Exciting news

  2. Sandy Lane friends

  3. A bad beginning

  4. Back to square one

  5. Storm Cloud

  6. Tom’s secret

  7. A narrow escape

  8. The warning

  9. The local show

  10. An unwanted visitor

  11. From bad to worse

  12. Benbridge!

  13. To the rescue

  14. Chancey forever!

  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

  EXCITING NEWS

  Tom Buchanan pedalled furiously down the drive to Sandy Lane Stables and rattled into the yard. He couldn’t believe it had been two years since he’d started riding there. Two whole years...it seemed like only yesterday that he’d first arrived. Time had flown. Yet today was very different from any other day, deliciously different, for Tom had some very exciting news to share. The early morning mist was rising from the fields as a hazy glow filled the air. Tom jumped off his bike and, throwing it to the ground, charged into the tack room.

  “Nick, Sarah, where are you?” he cried, hardly able to contain his excitement. “You’re never going to believe my luck.” Silence.

  Tom called again, only louder this time, but there was still no answer. That was unusual. Nick Brooks and his wife Sarah, the owners of Sandy Lane, could normally be found in the tack room on the dot of eight, carefully planning the day ahead after the early morning feeds.

  Tom stood in the doorway and scratched his head. Where was everyone? Twisting slowly around, he scanned the yard. Ah, there was Nick now, coming out of Feather’s stable followed by the vet, a burly man with a florid, weather-beaten complexion. Feather had been having trouble with her leg for ages. Tom hoped it wasn’t anything serious.

  “A sprain in the suspensory ligament...plenty of rest...that’s the only thing I can prescribe for her.”

  Tom could just catch snippets of what the vet was saying.

  “Hose her down for the next forty-eight hours to reduce the inflammation,” the vet continued, “and add a support bandage to the opposite leg. That should help it take the extra weight without becoming too strained.”

  “Well, that settles that then,” Nick replied gloomily. “Feather isn’t rideable for at least two months.”

  Tom sighed despondently. An injured horse was the last thing that Sandy Lane needed. Since Nick and Sarah had bought the stables three years ago, they had faced constant financial difficulties. It was hard enough already to compete with the more established stables in the area – every one of the horses needed to pull its weight if Sandy Lane was to survive. A horse eating its head off and not working didn’t bring in the money, even if the horse was very beautiful. And no one could dispute Feather’s beauty. She was enchanting. A grey Arab with a coat so ghostly-white that she could have been mistaken for a phantom.

  Tom knew that Feather wasn’t really white, even if he liked to think she was. Everybody knew that there wasn’t really such a thing as a white horse. On paper, they could be classified as light grey, iron grey, dappled grey or even flea-bitten grey...never white. Not one of the descriptions was right for Feather. Flea-bitten came the closest, for she had little black hairs over her coat giving her a slightly mottled appearance. But this struck Tom as a rather unflattering way to describe something as wonderful as a horse, especially a horse like Feather.

  As Tom gazed across the yard, Feather looked out over her door. It was heartbreaking to see her confined to the stable. She was one of Nick and Sarah’s most valuable animals and very popular with the older riders. There wasn’t a horse at the stables to replace her.

  Now where had Nick disappeared to? Tom thought to himself. Everywhere was deadly quiet this morning. Normally the hustle and bustle of the yard was well under way by now. Tom shrugged his shoulders. Nick must have gone to discuss things with Sarah at the cottage. Should he go and look for him there? He didn’t want to disturb them, but at the same time he felt he would burst if he didn’t tell someone his news.

  The cottage lay to the left of the stables, near enough to be a part of it yet detached enough to be a separate home. Rambling wild roses covered the walls, hiding the crumbling brickwork. It was desperately in need of a lick of paint. Like everything at Sandy Lane it was slightly antiquated, still Tom couldn’t help feeling that both Nick and Sarah preferred it that way.

  Both Nick and Sarah rode, although Sarah was rarely in the yard nowadays. What with sorting out the mountain of bills and paperwork that kept flooding in, she simply didn’t have the time. Nick however, couldn’t be kept away from the horses. He’d been a jockey once upon a time, but had given it all up, vowed never to race again on the day that his steeplechaser, Golden Fleece, had fallen to her death. For a while, Sarah had thought that he would never even ride again, then they had bought Sandy Lane. Now Nick was trying to put the tragedy behind him.

  Tom hurried over to the cottage and knocked on the back door. Nick and Sarah were deep in conversation as he walked into the kitchen, almost tripping over Ebony, the black Labrador who lay sprawled across the floor.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Tom said.

  “What’s up?” Sarah asked, peering over her tortoiseshell glasses and looking intently at Tom. “I can’t take any more bad news.”

  “No, no,” said Tom. “It’s good news actually.”

  “Well go on then. Fire away,” Sarah said gloomily. “It’ll make a change from all these figures.”

  “It’s Georgina and Chancey you see,” Tom started. “She’s going abroad with her parents and she’s left me to look after him...to do anything I want with. Isn’t it the most fantastic news? She’s not coming back for ages. Not for two and a half months...yippee. So I’ve got him all to myself and Horton Chancellor is ready to collect whenever I want.” The words spilled out as Tom stopped to draw breath.

  “Whoa, now slow down,” said Sarah. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying. Who on earth are Georgina and Chancey and what is Horton Chancellor?”

  “Sorry,” said Tom, blushing furiously. “Georgina is my awful cousin, Georgina Thompson, and Chancey is short for Horton Chancellor. You remember, the horse that took the showjumping circuit by storm last season when ridden by Emily Manners. He was bought fo
r Georgina by my Uncle Bob,” Tom added, beaming.

  “Hmm. Let me think. Yes, I do remember that horse.” Nick wrinkled up his forehead. “An absolute star...14.2 hands, chestnut gelding, cleared everything in sight. Jumped like a dream if I remember rightly.”

  “That’s the one,” Tom replied. “Well, I’ve been lent him for the summer and I was wondering. Well, hoping really, that I might be able to keep him at Sandy Lane.”

  Nick and Sarah looked at each other. They knew what a chance this was for Tom, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time for them. With Feather injured, they could ill-afford another horse, certainly not one that wasn’t going to earn his keep. But Tom had been indispensable to them in the two years they had known him. How could they refuse his plea?

  Sarah gazed fondly at Tom, remembering when he had first arrived at Sandy Lane, a shy, reserved eleven year old. How much he had changed since that day. He had told them then that he had wanted to ride for as long as he could remember. But his parents weren’t horsey people and he had never been able to afford it. Then his Great Aunt Flo had died, leaving the family some money and his parents had thought it only fair that everyone should benefit. Tom, of course, had asked for the long-awaited riding lessons and been allowed to book twelve of them at Sandy Lane. Sarah had been touched by his story.

  By the time the lessons were at an end, Tom was totally hooked on riding and had started to spend more time than ever just helping out down at the stables. Nick and Sarah were more than happy to give him a free lesson in return for his work. Tom was to become the first of the helpers down at Sandy Lane – the regulars, as Nick and Sarah liked to call them. For that, they were especially attached to him. And there was no disputing his talent. He was a true horseman, born not made.

  Nevertheless, an extra horse meant extra costs and Nick and Sarah had a business to run. Sarah also knew that Tom would never be able to afford a livery fee and there was no way his mother would let him keep the horse in her prized garden.

  “Stabling a horse isn’t cheap Tom,” Nick said thoughtfully. “You of all people know how much they cost and how much looking after they need.”

  “I know. I know all that. But term ends in two weeks, so I would be down here all summer anyway. I could give you my pocket money. I’d work extra hard...and...and...”

  “We’re not trying to be mean,” Sarah went on. “It’s just that now we’ve lost the use of Feather, that would make two horses eating and not paying their way.”

  “That’s just it though,” said Tom. “Horton Chancellor could pay his way. You could use him in lessons for the more experienced riders instead of Feather. I don’t mind if it helps you out and I could ride him when he’s not booked up. He wouldn’t be any bother because I’d look after him.”

  Nick looked uncertain and sighed.

  Tom took a deep breath.

  “Well,” Nick began hesitantly, “since you put it like that.” He smiled. Sarah raised her eyes to heaven. Tom knew that the battle was almost won.

  “All right then,” Nick finished. “Bring Chancey to Sandy Lane and we’ll see how it goes.”

  “Thank you, oh thank you,” Tom gasped. “I can’t believe it. We won’t let you down, I promise. Wait till I tell the others.”

  2

  SANDY LANE FRIENDS

  The others had been as excited as Tom when they heard his news. Alex, Kate, Jess and Rosie were all regulars at Sandy Lane. Of varying riding abilities, they all had two things in common – their passion for riding and their love of horses. In the week before Chancey’s arrival, they could talk of little else but the prizewinning horse.

  And Tom couldn’t stop dreaming of the blissful days ahead of him. He was looking forward to a long summer filled with days upon days of riding. Tom told himself that he would work hard to become good enough to ride at Benbridge at the end of August – the show that everyone had set their hearts on. He could almost see it now...the breeze whipping past him as he flew around the course and rode through the finish to the sound of thunderous applause...

  “That was Tom Buchanan on Horton Chancellor, jumping clear with no time faults...”

  Thud! Tom’s vision was rudely interrupted as Napoleon kicked over his water bucket.

  “Oh, you stupid animal. Look what you’ve done now,” Tom said crossly, as the water seeped across the floor of the stable. “I don’t know. I’m always having to tidy up after you, aren’t I?”

  Automatically, Tom started to clean away the mess but his mind was elsewhere. He could barely contain his excitement. If someone had told him a month ago he would be lent a horse for the whole summer, he would never have believed it. And Chancey was due to arrive tomorrow.

  Walking across the yard, Tom refilled Napoleon’s water bucket from the old trough. Water sprayed everywhere as he turned the taps on full blast. He could see Rosie and Jess in the outdoor school from where he was standing.

  “Heels down, toes in, look straight ahead of you. What on earth has happened to the pair of you?” Nick bellowed. “Your hands and forearms should form a straight line with the reins. If you’re not going to concentrate, Jess, you may as well not be here.”

  Rosie and Jess were in the same year at school...best of friends and yet complete opposites. Where Rosie was careful, quiet and rational, Jess was impulsive, daring...and often in trouble.

  As their lesson came to an end, the two best friends wandered into the yard, chattering loudly. Quickly tethering their ponies to the rails, they set about sponging them down.

  “Hey,” cried Rosie, as Jess dipped her body brush into the bucket and doused her with water. “We’re supposed to be grooming the ponies, not each other.”

  “Well, I’ve been trying to attract your attention for ages,” laughed Jess. “I’ve been splashing you for the last five minutes and you’ve only just noticed. You must have gone over Pepper’s withers at least a dozen times. You’ll rub him away if you’re not careful.”

  Tom wandered away, smiling to himself. He was small for his thirteen years with tousled brown hair and a round, cheerful face. As the star pupil at Sandy Lane, he could have been arrogant and impossible, yet he wasn’t. Always willing to help with whatever needed to be done, Tom was well-liked. There was no horse he couldn’t handle, or so Jess and Rosie thought. They secretly admired him and hoped that one day they would be as good as him.

  “Jess, have you got time to tack up Napoleon?” Tom called from the tack room. “I’ve got to get Hector ready, and then I think Nick is just about set to take the 4 o’clock class.”

  “Sure,” said Jess. “Rosie, can you keep an eye on Minstrel for me? I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Quickly, Jess slipped into Napoleon’s box. Slipping the head collar down the bay neck, she put the bridle on. She was a dab hand at tacking up now, still she hadn’t always found it that easy. Many tears of frustration had been shed when she was still learning the basics. Now however, without hesitation, she slid the saddle smoothly down Napoleon’s back and tightened the girth. Heading out into the blazing sunshine, she took him to the mounting block as Tom led out Hector.

  Hector was a big sturdy bay hack, with a coat of polished mahogany, that Sarah had inherited from a woman looking for a good home for him. He was Alex’s favourite at the stables, and everyone was very fond of him. He was twenty years old – an old man in horse years – but a solid ride and ideal for beginners. He was the first horse that Tom had ever ridden and at 16.2 hands, Tom had felt as small as a sparrow on top of an elephant!

  Soon everyone was mounted and the ride was ready. As Nick led the class out of the yard, Tom thought how tired he looked. He hoped that Nick and Sarah would have more luck this year. Sandy Lane was such a fantastic stables, it seemed so unfair that they were continually struggling. As Tom walked back into the yard, he saw the last two of his friends arrive.

  “Aha! Alex, Kate, you’re here at last, you lazy sloths,” he yelled. Alex and Kate were brother and sister and usually went everywhere
as a pair.

  “Ugh. We were forced to go to our Aunt June’s fortieth birthday party,” groaned Alex. “Total nightmare. Loads of relatives telling us how much we’d grown. We got here as quickly as we could. Hopefully we won’t have to do any more family gatherings for a while, not till Christmas anyway.”

  “Well, you’ve arrived bang on time to help turn out the horses for the evening anyway.”

  “Great,” Alex groaned, lazily. “Is that all you’ve got to say to me? I haven’t seen my best mate for a couple of days and he sets me to work straight away.”

  “There’s a lot to be done and I am supposed to be coming round to your house later anyway,” said Tom, grinning.

  “Well, what’s the news on Chancey?” Alex asked.

  “He’s arriving tomorrow at eleven, so make sure you’re here to greet him,” Tom said, looking around him at his friends. “Personally, I don’t know how I’ll ever get to sleep tonight. Come on Alex,” he said, turning to his friend. “I’ll help you turn out those horses...”

  3

  A BAD BEGINNING

  Tom did manage to get to sleep and woke early the next morning. Too early. By seven, he’d been awake for what seemed like ages and could stand it no longer. Getting out of bed, he walked over to the window and looked outside. He smiled. It was going to be a very hot day.

  Pulling on his jodhpurs, Tom hurried down the stairs and strode out into the morning air. Narrowly escaping his mother’s breakfast call, he set off for the stables. It was a good fifteen minute cycle ride to Sandy Lane from where Tom lived, on the outskirts of nearby Colcott, but one that he didn’t mind too much. Whistling to himself as he passed the old tannery, he sped down the hill.

  Not far now. Out of breath as he reached the last stretch, he zoomed passed the duck pond at the corner of the stables and hurtled into the yard. The horses had already been brought in from the fields and the stables were buzzing with activity.