Through Tender Thorns

by Barbara Morriss

  Chapter 23

  Maizie’s Diary

  June 29, 1931

  Capp gave me my horseback-riding lesson today. He is a good teacher and he says I’m a good student. Can’t do better than that. I love him, I think. Why, when I am with him I’m all nervous and then like magic I feel warm. I feel like I could do anything.

  I found out today that Mrs. Glidewell never had any children. How does that happen? Mr. and Mrs. Glidewell have been married for a long time and they have no son or daughter to share this ranch. Maybe that’s why they are sharing everything with all of us who work here. Mrs. Glidewell seems sad about not having a baby. Seems I made my mama’s life a little better, but maybe not. It was nice to talk with her about my mama.

  When I think about it, Mrs. Glidewell is not like my mama at all. She is rich and mama was so poor. My mama didn’t have a home or anyone who cared for her. I wonder if she would have ever stayed in one place. Seemed my mama was running from something. Don’t know what, but something. Or maybe she was running to something. Who knows?

  And Mrs. Glidewell is smart. She knows a lot of things. My mama sure knew how to tell stories so that makes her smart too. I loved the stories about my daddy and the magic of flying from danger. I remember listening to those stories and feeling better. I wonder if angels on earth learn to fly. Now that would be something.

  After the match races, I’m going to go through my mama’s things. I’ll be ready then.

  Bonne nuit, mon ami,

  Maizie Sunday Freedman

  Chapter 24

  The Barn Meeting

  After Mary, Maizie, and Leon returned from running errands in Springfield, a deluge hit Glidewell Ranch. Maizie put her purchases on her bed and watched the rain pour and puddle on the lane outside her bedroom window. The pounding lasted for a full hour and soaked and muddied the ground. She listened and through the sound of the downpour was the peppering of impressive thunder. When the rain finally quit, Maizie ran to the backside for her riding lesson, being careful not to slip in the mud.

  Around 4:45 p.m. Mary walked down to the big barn for the staff meeting. She found Maizie and James talking near the entrance. James patted Maizie on her back, offering what appeared to be congratulations; Maizie was smiling brightly. She didn’t smile that often, but when she did it was like sunshine and light. Mary felt her heart swell. She began to think about her only child, the one who would be the same age as Maizie. The scene she was observing this very moment could have been James and their child. But it wasn’t. Why in the world did she feel so much love for Maizie? Maybe James was right. Maybe she was getting too close. Her heart would break if anything bad happened to Maizie.

  “Hello dear,” said James. “Maizie just finished her lesson. I watched nearly the whole thing and she did very well. Why, I was proud of both of them.” Maizie looked up at James enjoying his praise. Mary nodded but offered no words.

  “It was fun to ride in the mud. I better run and change into clean clothes,” said Maizie.

  James laughed out loud. “Every cowpoke at this meeting is going to look just like that or he hasn’t been working.”

  “Hate to interrupt but, James, Maizie, let’s go take a seat.”

  “Yes ma’am,” James said. “We better do what she says, Maizie.” Mary smiled knowing that James was teasing. She also knew that he wanted to make sure Mary knew that Capp had given Maizie a good lesson. All business, no nonsense, her husband had signaled. Capp was following the rules.

  The Glidewells and Maizie sat in chairs next to the Wembleys at the east end of the barn. Those from the ranch-house staff were seated near one another while the backside staff sat, stood, leaned wherever they wanted. Those who worked the horses and track were clearly at home in the barn; the ranch-house staff sat stiffly in chairs. It all made for a sharp contrast.

  James stood, turned to face the gathered crowd and thanked everyone for coming. He enjoyed giving speeches, having done so his whole professional life. He had talked formally to bankers, businessmen, lawyers, and investors. Now he was talking to a group of diverse folks who had lived lives much different from his own. He had learned to respect and admire most of them.

  Looking out over the congregation, he felt a calling to instruct and inspire. James cleared his throat and remarked that this was a defining moment in the Glidewell Ranch organization. “We have a fine crew, good horses, and the potential for a glorious future,” he began. “We have ten broodmares who will foal in February and three that foaled a week or so ago. Our stock is sound, handsome, and spirited. If we all follow the “new rules” we’ve drafted, we can better ensure a great community of individuals working together for common goals. Glidewell Ranch can become what Mrs. Glidewell and I have always intended. It will be a great place, made greater still by all of you.

  “Let’s see now, enough of that. Before you leave, make sure you sign our agreement form that says you understand and will comply with all the rules and understand the possible consequences. Your signature will constitute your vote. If you choose not to agree to the new rules, make an appointment to come and talk with Mrs. Glidewell or me. Thank you. Wil?”

  Wil Wembley stood to address the crowd. Unaccustomed as he was to speech giving, he nevertheless struck a confident pose. All were quiet as Wil talked about the parade, the races, and what they hoped to gain by putting on a race weekend that summer. “We have fine horses right now for racing. If we show them off, if they win, word will get out that we have a good ranch. More people will buy our horses and bring their mares here for breeding with our stallions.” Wil took his seat to loud applause and cheers.

  Then it was Mary’s turn. “I have made some changes to our staff. None of these changes were made without reason and forethought. We have hired another cook to work in the backside mess hall. His name is Corky Wright. He worked as a cook in the military at Fort Riley and has some good ideas to share with Thelma and Billy.”

  Thelma’s back stiffened as she stared at Mary. Mary went on talking about the need for more workers, including house staff and domestics. “I have hired an entirely new backside housekeeping staff of four women. Housekeeping will now be managed separately from food services. Sugar Jackson will be managing the bunkhouses, small cabins, cottages, and will oversee the laundry. I have hired Ethyl Smithson to assist Sugar in the housekeeping details and Dena Burns and Estel Christian to be in charge of the laundry. These women will start next week. Any questions?”

  Thelma raised her hand. “Billy and I don’t need no help. We aren’t needin’ anyone gettin’ in our way.”

  “Thelma, I feel as though I haven’t observed the food operation as closely as I should have over the last few years. If I observe that you don’t need any help, then I will decide what to do.”

  “I have always managed the housekeeping staff. Those kind need lots of looking after.” Thelma’s response took on a demeaning tone. Claire and Ruby looked at each other and shrugged.

  “Well, you missed a few little details with one of our housekeepers,” Mary reminded her. The men in the barn took to chuckling, and Thelma, in a huff, went back to crossing her arms and leaning against a stall door, a look of disdain crossing her pudgy face. Mary hoped these bad feelings would not escalate into some kind of mutiny.

  “I will remind all of you that you are to make these new employees comfortable and treat them well. All are experienced and qualified and they, like most of you, need work, and are grateful to get it. There is little work in Springfield for people. I’m confident our new staff will all work hard. Other questions for any of us?”

  Jeb raised his claw-shaped hand. “I think I get it about the spittin’, but I may let one fly out of habit. You gonna fire me?” The barn rang with laughter.

  “If we notice that you are spitting around the backside, we will certainly call you on it. Not complying could be considered insubordination,” James said.
>
  “You go usin’ those big words and you lose folks like me, Mr. Glidewell,” Jeb explained.

  “Sorry. Hey Wil, how would you put it?”

  Wil stood tall. Directing his response to Jeb he said, “You ain’t tryin’. You gettin’ fired. Those the rules, Jeb.”

  Jeb lifted his left arm and nodded. One of the other tobacco-chewing employees raised his hand. “I chew and have learned to spit in this here small portable cuspidor. That’s a fancy word for spittoon.” He pulled a flask-like brass vessel from his hip pocket. He opened a spring-loaded door on the front and spit into it, demonstrating its usefulness and convenience around the backside. “See, my mess ain’t bothering no one.” He let the small door on the cuspidor spring shut and slid it back into his pocket.

  “Thank you, Huck. You see that, Jeb? You need one of those,” Wil suggested.

  “I would be happy to purchase a few for anyone who needs one,” James added.

  Silence followed and James asked if there were any more questions. No one else raised their hand. Seemed as though all the backside workers got the drift of it or they were too shy to say anything. The ranch-house employees continued to remain silent on all issues.

  Maizie stood with the forms she had prepared for everyone to sign. Walking to a small table situated near the entrance of the barn, she laid out the papers with four pens and an ink bottle. Wil and Capp positioned themselves behind the table to answer any questions. As the workers began to leave, they paused briefly at the table to write their name. When Thelma took the pen in hand to sign the paper, she glared at Maizie and quietly said, “Why, aren’t you the important one? Sittin’ here making sure we sign our papers. You got “new rules” to sign, Maizie?” Maizie ignored the remark. Jeb, standing behind Thelma, took his arthritic hand and massaged his chin. “Hey Thelma, you leave that girl be. She just doin’ her job. You got no right hounding her so,” Jeb said.

  “And you know what else, Thelma?” asked Wil.

  “What?”

  “You are about as good a person as you are a cook.” Wil stared at Thelma as she threw down the pen and walked out the door, Billy following closely behind. Jeb walked up to the table and painfully initialed the new rules. He winked at Maizie and smiled. Leaning toward her, he said, “Folks act like Thelma ’cause they’s scared. Took me a long, long time to learn that, but it’s true, Maizie. I’m ’fraid some people just cain’t let go of their improper thinkin’.” Maizie nodded and thanked Jeb.

  “Guess we better watch what we say. She does feed us most of the time.” Jeb laughed, tipped his hat, and walked away.

  Within a half hour the barn was empty. The Glidewells and Maizie began to head back to the ranch house. When Maizie was about a hundred yards down the lane, Capp called from the outside of the barn. Maizie stopped and turned. “Maizie, Breezy sure does like you.” Mary, hearing Capp’s voice, turned and watched as a grin broke out on Maizie’s pretty face. She waved to Capp, her actions exuding joy. Mary smiled, watching Maize’s reaction, and wondered if Capp making Maizie happy was a good thing.

  Chapter 25

  Yearnings

  Mary and James enjoyed a small glass of champagne with their dessert before retiring to their bedchamber. Leon started a nice fire in their bedroom fireplace and filled the wood box with more dry kindling and a few logs. Ruby turned down the Glidewells’ bed and fluffed the pillows. Sitting in the slipper chairs in front of the fire, the pleasant conversation went from Mary’s trip to Springfield and on to the results of the staff meeting in the backside barn. It had been a long but good day.

  As the conversation wound down, the two sat quietly, their eyes on the fire. Mary began to feel her eyelids grow heavy. James broke the silence. “Mary, Wil and I been talking about raising thoroughbred racehorses.”

  “Giving up already on the quarter horses?”

  “No, quarter horses are our bread and butter. Can’t give them up.”

  “Then why thoroughbreds?”

  “The thoroughbreds would be in addition to our current stock. Like Wil says, we can breed and train right here. Why not? We’ve got the track.”

  “We sure do. You and Wil saw to that.”

  “Wil has raised horses his whole life. He wants to send Capp to Kentucky to learn about thoroughbreds. He wants Capp to glean every bit of knowledge he can from the experts. He trusts Capp to work hard and so do I.”

  “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind. You really think this is what you want? Thoroughbreds?”

  “Ever since I saw Blue Larkspur win the Arlington Classic a few years ago, I have dreamed of having thoroughbreds. There is something in my blood. I can’t explain it. You knew this, Mary.”

  “I did, but I fear I don’t understand your passion.”

  “Blue Larkspur was the favorite going into the Kentucky Derby in 1929. He didn’t win, but he turned it around. Later in the season that stallion won the Arlington Classic. He was named horse of the year. I would love to have a contender like that.”

  Mary could see the passion in her husband as he leaned toward the fire, telling the tale; she could hear his enthusiasm.

  “Seems life would be simpler if…”

  “Simpler? You want life simpler? Mary, come on, this is our chance. It takes years to develop great pedigrees. We have to get started now.”

  “Your chance, James, not mine.” Silence ensued. Mary could feel an old pain surfacing. She rubbed her belly to calm herself, but the hurt came from her heart, not her stomach.

  “I am sorry you feel that way, Mary.”

  “Believe me, James, I know what it’s like to want something. To ache for something.”

  “What are you talking about, Mary? “

  “Do you really not know what I’m talking about?”

  James put his hand to his temple and rubbed it briefly. He then stood to place another log on the fire.

  “Do you ever think about the child we lost, James? Do you ever wonder what it would have been like to have a child? When I lost our baby, I never imagined we wouldn’t have another. That’s what I am talking about!”

  James sat back in his chair. He was silent. It had been a long time since they had this conversation. “That was a difficult time. Harder for you than me.”

  “No thoroughbred winning a race will ever fill the void for me. And yet this seems to be all you need. It bothers me.”

  “So wanting to raise a great thoroughbred is like wanting to raise a child? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Mary said nothing and as the pause grew longer, James shifted his weight in his chair. Finally, he said flatly, “I always thought we would have a child one day.”

  “Well, we didn’t. And I face that reality every day. I grieve, James, and it hurts.” Mary turned her eyes back to the fire.

  “I know, Mary. It’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  “It’s better to move on. Forget the past.”

  “I can’t, James. Do you know that our child would be just the age of Maizie? I think of that. Can you imagine such a gift?” Mary asked, her mind now open to receiving his thoughts on Maizie.

  “I don’t give it much thought.”

  “You don’t give it much thought? My word, James, how can that be?”

  “I don’t know. We are different, I guess.”

  “To help you understand, I feel Maizie was given to me to replace what was taken. She is my chance for a child. James, I want her to be the best she can be. I want her to have a good education and learn about the world. When we were shopping today, I had so much fun. She hardly knew what to do. Never been in a store before. She tried on dresses. James, you should have seen her look at herself in the mirror. I honestly don’t think she recognized herself. I told her how pretty she was. How grown-up she looked. My life felt complete.

  “I see how much you care for her
and how you protect her. What I feel for the horses is different. It’s the beauty of a horse in a race that really excites me, the horse and jockey, one unit, flying over turf or dirt to a finish line wearing the colors of the owner. It makes my heart pound just thinking about it. I’m a proud man, Mary. Maybe a fool, maybe a bit selfish, but I feel I was meant to own great racehorses. I hope you can support my dreams.”

  “Your dream is possible. I will never have my own child.”

  James stood and walked to the fireplace, hands in his pockets. “I do believe our days here will be filled with great achievements. You and me and Glidewell Ranch will be respected, even revered. Our horses will earn us that. That is all I need.”

  “Is that so? I think my dreams for Maizie are more noble than winning a horse race.”

  “Why do we have to compare the two? They aren’t the same thing.”

  “You know, James, there is something about Maizie that has me thinking she may be destined for some kind of greatness too. She is so intelligent. She wants to learn.”

  “She is exceptional, yes. I see that, but so what? She’s just an employee.”

  “Can’t you see I want so much for her? Can’t you see she makes me feel needed? I look into her eyes and I see a future for her. A future that we can give her. Wouldn’t that be more important than a great racehorse?”

  “Mary, now I know you are overly involved.”

  “Oh you do, do you?”

  “Your wishes for Maizie are heartfelt and kind, but aren’t they also selfish?”

  “How so?”

  “Seems you want Maizie to love you and be your child. But is that what she wants?”

  Mary sharply turned away and did not answer.

  Chapter 26

  Maizie’s Diary

  July 7, 1931