Live and Let Growl by Laurien Berenson Read Free Book Online

green gates. Then the fences changed from light to dark and half a mile later we came upon a pair of high, stone gateposts, bracketing an ornate double gate. A polished copper sign announced that we had reached our destination.
    Aunt Peg pulled into the entrance and paused before the tall gates. After a moment they swung slowly inward to reveal a long driveway that was shaded by a border of mature oak trees. The road meandered between bountiful green pastures filled with sleek Thoroughbreds.
    Off in the distance, on the other side of a rustic, double-arch bridge, I saw several low stone buildings. A group of barns was visible beyond that. The entire vista was breathtaking. Someone had obviously taken great care to ensure that each man-made element served to complement the charm of the beautiful landscape rather than detract from it.
    â€œWhoa.” I blew out a long breath. “ Lucky Luna, indeed. This place is amazing.”
    Aunt Peg was less impressed. “Perhaps that explains the size of the bills I’ve been told to expect. Don’t forget, Lucky Luna is a horse. All of this grandeur is lost on her.”
    â€œBut not on visiting clients,” I pointed out.
    Aunt Peg merely snorted under her breath in reply.
    A sign outside the first building we came to identified it as the farm office. Aunt Peg parked the minivan in the shade. We rolled the windows down halfway, and I dug a rawhide bone out of the glove compartment. We left Faith chewing on it happily and went to check things out.
    Inside the office, a receptionist was sitting in a front room that had the look and feel of a gentlemen’s library. Aunt Peg explained the nature of our visit and was told that someone would be along shortly to help us. I studied the equine art on the walls while we waited. Aunt Peg sat down in a leather club chair and thumbed through a glossy stallion brochure.
    â€œIt occurs to me that I might need this,” she said after a minute. Aunt Peg looked over at the receptionist. “May I have it?”
    â€œOf course,” the woman replied. “That’s why they’re there.”
    As Aunt Peg was tucking the brochure into her purse, the office door opened and a woman in her early twenties with a bright smile and a brisk, energetic stride came hurrying inside. Her curly hair was gathered into a French braid that reached halfway down her back and she was dressed in what appeared to be the farm uniform: blue jeans, solid boots, and a navy blue polo short adorned with the SIX OAKS logo.
    She looked at the two of us and immediately approached Aunt Peg with her hand extended. “Mrs. Turnbull? I’m Erin Sayre, the assistant broodmare manager. Ben Burrell, your account manager, was called away but he should be back shortly. In the meantime, he asked me to show you around. Welcome to Six Oaks Farm. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    â€œIt’s lovely to meet you, too,” Aunt Peg replied. “This is my niece, Melanie Travis, who’s traveled with me to Kentucky. We’re both looking forward to making the acquaintance of my new mare.”
    â€œI can imagine,” Erin said cheerfully. “If you’ll come this way, I’ll take you right to her. Is Lucky Luna your first Thoroughbred broodmare?”
    â€œFirst and only,” Aunt Peg told her. “This is my initial foray into horse ownership. I’m hoping the learning curve won’t prove to be too steep.”
    Erin strode to the office door and held it open for us. “I’m sure it won’t,” she replied. “We at Six Oaks will be here to help you every step of the way. I know Ben Burrell will take great care of you. But if you have any questions before then, feel free to ask. That’s why I’m here!”
    Erin led us outside to a dark blue pickup truck with the farm logo painted on both doors. As I walked by, I snuck a look into Aunt Peg’s minivan. Faith was still busy with her