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“Let’s get to work.”

Chapter 4
    â€œW e’ll begin with some background,” said Miss Ellie. “Six Oaks is an old farm with a venerable name and a long history of achievement in the Thoroughbred world, but the property itself is currently owned by a partnership of foreign investors.”
    As she spoke, one hand slipped down from her lap and dangled a few inches above the floor where she waggled her fingers invitingly. Faith’s head lifted. She had a look.
    â€œGo ahead,” I said softly.
    The Standard Poodle stood up, and padded around the table between the two couches. Reaching Miss Ellie’s side, she lay down with her body pressed against the older woman’s legs. Before Faith had even gotten settled on the floor, Miss Ellie’s fingers were already tangling in her topknot. As she continued speaking, Miss Ellie was smiling happily.
    â€œIt’s not unusual for farms that have been around for a long time to pass into new, more energetic hands. Sometimes a family’s younger generation doesn’t share the same passion for horses. Or sometimes poor decisions have been made and the money runs out. As you might imagine, maintaining these farms is a huge undertaking. Some of them employ hundreds of people. It’s big business and it requires a firm hand at the helm.”
    â€œAunt Peg told me that you grew up on a family farm,” I said.
    Miss Ellie nodded. “Green Gates Farm. You’ll drive past it on your way to Six Oaks. The two farms are right next to each other. They also share a training track that sits on an area of common land between them.”
    â€œHow long has your family owned the property?” Aunt Peg asked.
    â€œThe original piece of land was purchased by my great-grandfather, Ellwood Gates, in the late 1800s. That property later passed to his son, Bentley Gates, my grandfather, who became a successful tobacco farmer. He tripled the size of the acreage and then, as the family story goes, decided to indulge his penchant for gambling by investing in a few racehorses. Those first few soon grew into a sizeable breeding and racing operation.
    â€œToday the business of the farm is mostly devoted to Thoroughbreds, though my two cousins who share management of the property, also grow corn and hay and have a herd of Black Angus cattle. You’ll see the green gates in the fences as you go by. They were my grandfather’s trademark.”
    â€œIt must have been an incredible place to grow up,” I said.
    â€œIt was, indeed.” Even as Miss Ellie agreed with me, I thought I saw her stiffen slightly. She withdrew her hand from Faith and replaced it in her lap. “It was wonderful being able to be a part of it all.”
    And yet she had left it behind, I thought. I wondered why that was.
    â€œMy son, Gates Wanamaker, manages the yearling division at the farm,” Miss Ellie continued. “So many young people these days can’t wait to escape from a place like this. They all want to go to the big city. But working with horses and assuming his role in the family’s heritage is the only life Gates ever wanted.”
    â€œSpeaking of horses . . .” said Aunt Peg. “Perhaps you could tell me more about what to expect when I go to see Lucky Luna?”
    â€œCertainly.” Miss Ellie paused for a sip of sweet tea before continuing. “I’d imagine that an account manager at Six Oaks has been assigned to look after you. That person may give you the grand tour. It’s a magnificent place so they will want you to see it and be wildly impressed. Then someone will take you to see your mare. I’m sure I don’t have to give you any tips about that. You know what a good, healthy, bitch in whelp looks like. Just size up.”
    I was half tempted to laugh but I was glad I hadn’t when Aunt Peg nodded solemnly. She was taking this whole enterprise very seriously. “What sorts of arrangements