Storm and the Silver Bridle Read Online Free Page A

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 in agreement. “Yes, Francoise. You’re right. Maybe it is.”

    That afternoon back at Winterflood Farm, Issie spent longer than usual grooming and feeding Storm. When she turned him out in his paddock she realised she didn’t want to let the colt go. She gave him a long, snuggly hug,scratching him on the rump the way he liked, and stroking his velvet muzzle for ages before she finally slipped the halter off his head and set him loose.
    “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” Avery said when