Liberty and the Dream Ride by Stacy Gregg Read Free Book Online

to Route 64 and they began to head into bluegrass country. Issie looked out the windows at the sprawling miles of white post-and-rail surrounding green pastureland. It was April and the dogwood trees were in bloom. In the fields the mares grazed with their young foals at foot. Most of the colts and fillies were still only a few months old and too young to be separated from their mums.
    â€œIt’s so beautiful around here,” Issie said, staring out the window as they passed yet another racehorse farm, an elegant white Southern mansion surrounded by red barns. “It’s like horse heaven.”
    This was heartland horse country, home to some of the wealthiest Thoroughbred stud farms in the world and the Kentucky Horsepark was right in the middle of it. At first you couldn’t tell the horsepark apart from the rest of the surrounding farms. It was fenced exactly the same as the other properties, with endless miles of white post-and-rail. The difference was the horses. Kentucky Horsepark had some Thoroughbreds grazing in their fields, but they shared the pastures with exotic breeds from all around the globe.
    â€œOhmygod!” Stella wound down the window of the Jeep to get a better look at the horses. “Look! Aren’t they cute!”
    A herd of multicoloured miniature ponies in every colour from piebald to palomino had their heads down in the long grass right beside the road. Their diminutive size made them look comical alongside the massive Percheron draught horse grazing nearby, towering above them like a gentle giant. In the field alongside the Percheron a jet-black horse with feathered legs and a flowing curly mane raised his head to watch the horse float drive by. “That is the most beautiful Friesian I have ever seen!” Stella said.
    â€œThey have over forty rare breeds at the Kentucky Horsepark,” Avery explained as they passed another field with spotted appaloosas and golden palomino Quarter Horses grazing without any rugs, their coats shining in the Kentucky sunshine.
    They didn’t take the main entrance to the park. Instead, Avery turned down a side road signposted as Nina Bonnie Boulevard. They drove on until they reached another gateway where a tall stand of clipped conifers marked the entrance and the sign at the gate read: Access For Competitors Only .
    Halfway down the avenue there was a security gate with a guard posted beside it. Avery took off the lanyard that he was wearing round his neck and showed it to the guard, who examined it and gave them directions before letting them through.
    â€œHe says that the stables are just up ahead to the right,” Avery said. “Comet’s stall is in Block C.”
    â€œThis place is totally massive!” Stella leant out the window to stare at the rows of loose boxes.
    â€œThe park has stabling for three hundred horses,” Avery explained. “Horses must remain on site the whole time while the competition is underway.”
    He pulled the float up in a parking bay beside the stable block with the giant letter ‘C’ painted on the front wall.
    â€œThis will be Comet’s home for the next week. We’re going to be staying nearby in the competition village. I’ve booked us two cabins.”
    Avery pointed in the direction of the village, but Issie was looking out towards the green fields – she’d just caught her first glimpse of the cross-country course that she would be riding in four days’ time.
    She could make out a couple of the jumps. There was a vast trakehner and one of the water complexes. Even from this distance she could see that the fences were far bigger than anything she’d ever ridden before.
    â€œWhen will we get the chance to walk the course?” she asked Avery, feeling the butterflies suddenly taking up residence in her tummy.
    â€œOn Wednesday,” Avery said. “The course is out of bounds until then. After that you can walk it on foot as many