Live and Let Growl Read Online Free

speed on the subject by then.”
    Lucky Luna, I thought. The excitement of Bertie’s announcement had driven all thought of Aunt Peg’s new broodmare right out of my head.
    â€œWhy me?” I asked. I might have sounded a little plaintive.
    â€œWho else?” Peg wanted to know. “I’ll be busy judging. Bertie has her dogs to show. You’re the one who’s on vacation.”
    True, I thought, brightening. And the Bluegrass state was home to horse racing, Southern charm, and the best bourbon whiskey anywhere. Not only that but while late March still felt like winter in Connecticut, in Kentucky it would be spring.
    Bertie was right. This trip was going to be great.
    * * *
    My first view of Kentucky wasn’t at all what I’d been expecting.
    That might have had something to do with the fact that I’d just woken up. Still a bit groggy, I opened my eyes and gazed out the side window of Aunt Peg’s minivan at a monochrome world of tall, gray buildings and eight-lane highways, all of it backed by a dusk-darkening sky.
    Aunt Peg and I had left her house in Greenwich before dawn that morning, setting out on our cross-country jaunt with Faith bedded down comfortably on the backseat. Aunt Peg and I shared the driving and the navigating between us. Faith served as perfect companion, arbiter of disputes, and occasional music critic.
    We had made the 750 mile trip from western Connecticut to central Kentucky in eleven hours. If you think that sounds fast, you’ve obviously never been in a car when Aunt Peg is driving. During the final leg of the trip, I had alternated between bracing myself against the dashboard and closing my eyes. Which was probably how I had fallen asleep.
    Now I sat up straight, shook myself awake, and had another look around. It was still disappointing. We appeared to be on a beltway that circled downtown Louisville.
    â€œWhere are the horses?” I asked. “Where’s the Bluegrass? This just looks like a city.”
    â€œIt is a city,” Aunt Peg replied. She glanced up at an approaching highway sign and abruptly switched lanes. Somewhere behind us, I heard a horn honk. “Louisville is the largest city in Kentucky. Three quarters of a million people live here.”
    I frowned. “I was expecting something different. More . . . rural. More scenic.”
    â€œYou missed that part. You’ve been asleep since Cincinnati.”
    â€œEven so,” I argued, “I thought there’d be horses. What about Churchill Downs? And the Kentucky Derby?”
    â€œThe Derby is only one day a year. And Churchill Downs isn’t open for racing at the moment. Honestly, didn’t you read that book I gave you?”
    â€œThe book was about broodmares and reproduction,” I said. “It told me every single thing that could possibly go wrong when mares deliver foals and scared the bejeezus out of me. But it didn’t educate me in the slightest about horse racing. If the horses aren’t here, where are they?”
    â€œMostly at Keeneland, I’d expect. They’re getting ready to start their spring meet in a few weeks.”
    â€œWhere’s Keeneland?”
    Aunt Peg lifted a hand and jerked a thumb back over her shoulder. “East.”
    Well, that narrowed things down.
    Maybe it would be easier if I just went back to sleep, I thought. Maybe I could arrange to sleep for two weeks and then wake up once again in a world where things made sense.
    Behind me, Faith whined under her breath. I threaded an arm between the two front seats and reached back a reassuring hand. The Poodle licked my extended fingers gently, then settled with her head nestled between her paws. I heard her sigh softly.
    Faith was getting older now. I could see the first signs of graying on her dark muzzle and she’d lost the abundant energy of her youth. Once Faith would have been the first Poodle to chase a ball or dive into a pond. But these days