Through Tender Thorns

by Barbara Morriss

“And we got others too. Why, we could win all the quarters of the draw. Have it be a Glidewell sweep,” said James with so much enthusiasm he sounded like a child at his own birthday party.

  Leon entered the dining area with a large dessert tray. It was his specialty, an individual French meringue floating on lemon cream custard, a favorite of the ranch-house live-ins. While the guests at the table enjoyed their dessert, Thelma ate quickly and then she stood to leave. “I have to get back. Billy will be needin’ me.”

  “Well, then, I guess we are finished,” said James as he wiped his mouth and placed his linen napkin on the dessert plate. Mary moved to where Thelma was standing. “Thank you for coming, Thelma. I’ll be around the backside checking in on your progress.” Thelma headed out the back door and down the incline to the mess hall.

  Mary returned to her office and looked out her window. She could see Thelma walking heavily back down the hill, a frown etched deeply on her chubby face. People full of hate don’t change. Mary knew that all too well. Thelma would be gone soon.

  Chapter 30

  The Bugle

  Corky Wright arrived around 11:00 a.m. on a warm Tuesday afternoon, having hitched a ride from the Springfield train depot. He was let out at the main road and made the mile walk up the shady, long lane. He could view the track, stables, bunkhouses, barns, and paddocks to his right. To his left sat a grand home constructed up an incline that overlooked the track and barns. The house was made of the familiar limestone rock and huge timbers. For a moment he was reminded of the limestone at Fort Riley, but this ranch house was like no house he could have imagined. He decided to walk the road leading down to the backside and see what he could learn about Glidewell Ranch and ask to meet Mr. Glidewell.

  When he reached the big barn, he stuck his nose inside and saw several stable hands and a few groomers at work. He’d always loved the smell of a horse barn and the sound of a horse’s greeting. There was one horse in particular that took great interest in Corky. She snorted and whinnied, seeming to call him to her. She was a white filly with a gray mane and tail: a quarter horse of sturdy stature and conformation, with the eyes of a winner—alert, focused, determined. The horse raised and lowered her head, and then she nudged Corky with her nose. Corky, experienced with horses, was careful not to frighten her. He slowly raised his hand to stroke her neck, and so began the love affair between Corky and the three-year-old race filly Devil Doll.

  “You need some help?” Wil asked as he walked into the barn. “Looks like Doll has taken a liking to you.”

  “I love horses. Was a cavalry man in the army, and a mess-hall cook. My name is Corky. Corky Wright. I’m here to see Mr. Glidewell.” Corky extended his hand.

  Wil reached for the offered handshake. “I’m on my way to the ranch house now. Put your things in that bunkhouse and we can walk up together. I’ll introduce you to Mr. Glidewell.”

  “Looks like a mighty fine ranch. The track is beautiful. I read about it in the paper. That’s why I called Mr. Glidewell. But really I had no idea.”

  “Glidewell Ranch is quite a place. The architect made it beautiful. We put in the horse center first. Doll here is one of our fastest little fillies. Great sprinter.” Suddenly Wil noticed that Corky had a bugle in his left hand, a well-used bugle. “You play that?”

  “Everything from Reverie to Taps.”

  “You play a bugle for a horse race?”

  “You mean ‘Boots and Saddles’?” Corky said with pride. “Darn right, I do. That’s a military call for the cavalry to get ready to go. Some call it the First Call. My proudest moments in the military were playing that tune and getting on my horse.”

  Wil smiled and looked into Corky’s bright eyes, “We could use a bugle player for match-race weekend.”

  “I’m your man. Sure am liking this mare. Any chance I could ride Doll here?” Corky asked while stroking her muzzle and looking into her eyes.

  “She’s a handful. Wants to run,” Wil said. “She’ll take off on you.”

  “Sounds like my horse, Patriot, in the cavalry. Handsome, smart, but unpredictable. We got to an understanding, that horse and me. I could control him with a loose rein, soft touch to the flank. He knew all the commands. Whoa, trot, lope, and gallop. He could walk sideways and back up. He and I were like a unit. I could blow my bugle and he wouldn’t flinch. Miss him,” Corky said, his eyes betraying his appreciation for Devil Doll.

  “I’ll have my son, Capp, test you on her. See how you do.” That was enough for Corky, a chance. But like his cooking and bugle playing, his riding skills were well practiced. He was a cavalry man, and he had arrived at Glidewell Ranch.

  Chapter 31

  Maizie’s Diary

  July 10, 1931

  I was thinking about guardian angels today. I remembered the first guardian angel I ever saw. I was about five. My mama and I were wandering up a river. It had been raining a lot. My mama said, “You know, Maizie, if it gets to raining hard, we might have to get away from this river.” I didn’t know what Mama meant ’cause I was little, and Mama didn’t look scared, so I wasn’t either. That night we camped in a small clearing. I remember the hard rain started in the middle of the night. We stayed put until Mama thought what to do. It was very dark and the river was loud. My mama held me because now I was scared.

  In the morning the rain moved on, and the daylight let us look for shelter should it start to rain again. Mama and I picked up our things. We were wet and cold. We had a bite of jerky and a drink from Mama’s canteen. We walked back to the river and could see the water was moving fast. We came to a place in the river where a big tree had fallen and other trees and limbs were trapped behind it. The river got real high because of all the trees and limbs making a dam.

  My mama said we needed to get away from the river, but it was hard. There were lots of low-hanging tree limbs and brush to climb through. I was too little to go quick. Mama tried to get me to move faster, but I was tired. I could see the water was moving now filling in where it had no business being. Mama had me sit a while to rest and we waited. We decided to go back the way we came.

  We walked for a while and I started crying. I was so tired, cold, and hungry. And then right there in front of us was a big stag. I remember he was looking straight at us with beautiful brown eyes. He just stood there for the longest time. Then he tipped his antlers, turned, and moved away from the river. Mama said, “Come, Maizie, the stag will lead us.” We followed the animal as best we could. Every once in a while, he’d turn to see, if we were behind him. My mama smiled at me and grabbed my hand and said, “Maizie, that stag is our guardian angel.” I remember hugging my mama really tight. ’Cause I knew guardian angels were good.

  Soon we came to a road. It was muddy for sure, but all right for walking. But I was so tired, I wanted Mama to stop. So we rested, tired and hungry but safe from the river. Then along came a man sitting in a wagon drawn by donkeys. He stopped and told us he could get us to town. He took us to a church to let us dry our clothes and warm up. He got us some food, old clothes, and permission for us to rest. So Mama turned to me and said, “You see, Maizie, sometimes guardian angels work in pairs.”

  I think my guardian angels here at Glidewell are all people, not animals. And I think there are more than a pair.

  Bonne nuit, mon ami,

  Maizie Sunday Freedman

  Chapter 32

  A Parting

  As the afternoon sun reached the three-o’clock position, Billy Wood left the mess hall to climb the incline to the ranch house. He had a lot on his mind, wasn’t good with words, but for once in his marriage he felt the strength to express what he knew was right.

  James stood when Billy entered his office, shook his hand, and asked him to take a seat. “Thank you for seeing me, sir, Mr. Glidewell. It’s about Thelma.”

  “What happened? She all right?”

  “Well, I ain’t muc
h for talkin’, but I just have to say that Thelma ain’t doing too good since Corky came on board. She don’t like not being the boss. She’s just used to doin’ things her way. I don’t mind, but Thelma, she’s madder than a hornet.”

  “I see. Why doesn’t she come talk to us?”

  “She’s too mad. Says she’ll make it worse by talkin’ to you. She’s leaving the ranch. Goin’ back to Iowa. She’s got a sister there.”

  “We would wish her well. She can come and resign.”

  “No, she ain’t gonna do that. She thinks Mrs. Glidewell is out to get her. She thinks this whole thing about signin’ a contract to be nice to folks who are different just don’t make sense.”

  “Truth is, Billy, we’ve given Thelma a chance, but it sounds like she isn’t planning on changing.”

  “She’s always been that way. She was raised to believe that some folks are just inferior.”

  “Well, we here at Glidewell hold dear the premise that all men are created equal in the eyes of God, regardless of race, creed, or religion.”

  “I believe that too. But poor Thelma, she just has hate in her heart. I think going back to Iowa is for the best. Our son is getting out of prison in two years and maybe that’ll help. Though he’s just like her, I’m ’shamed to say.”

  “Your son is in prison?”

  “Yep, for eight years, two more to go. He killed a man. Beat a colored man to death.”

  “Billy, that’s awful.”

  “Now I ain’t proud of this. He was convicted and charged by a judge. Thelma couldn’t understand why our son got convicted. You see, Thelma didn’t see the wrong in it.”

  James stood and moved away from his desk and looked pensively out his office window. “Billy, Mrs. Glidewell and I appreciate you coming in. Do you both need any help to get back to Iowa?” Billy looked past James, trying to find a way to say what he had come to say.

  “Well, that’s just it. Ain’t no jobs for someone like me anywhere. Folks like me are movin’ to California to pick fruit. Thelma can go to her sister, but that sister has no likin’ for me. I was thinkin’ I would stay and work with Corky, since I get room and board here. I could send my pay to Thelma to help her and her sister out. I like workin’ here.”

  “You want to stay for the summer and then go to Iowa?”

  “No sir, I want to stay here for as long as you want me. I really got those ‘new rules’ of yours. I knew what you were tryin’ to do, but Thelma just don’t understand.”

  “Have you talked with her about you staying here?”

  “Yes, she wants to leave and me to stay and work. Thelma will need the money. We sure don’t know what lies ahead, but I have a job—a lot of folks don’t.”

  “I understand. Mrs. Glidewell and I will discuss financing Thelma’s return to Iowa. Leon will take her to the train depot. We’ll help. Rest assured.”

  Billy stood slowly from his chair and reached to shake James’s hand. “I do think you understood what I was tryin’ to say.”

  “I did, Billy.”

  “I sure am grateful. Thelma wants to leave tomorrow.”

  “I’ll make all the arrangements from this end. You have Thelma get ready. You sad at all, Billy?”

  “Can’t say I’m sad.”

  When Billy returned to his cabin at the backside, Thelma was sitting in a chair staring straight ahead. Billy bit his lip, thinking of what to say. “I talked with Mr. Glidewell. You can return to Iowa. He’ll pay for your ticket.”

  “Good,” Thelma said. Despite a sunbeam that radiated into the space, heavy silence and gloom permeated the room. Thelma crossed her ankles and gripped the arms of her chair. Billy could see a glistening of moisture around her eyes. “I’m scared, Billy. I have this hate in me. I feel it churnin’. Things here have changed. I can’t live here no more. The hate takes control of me.”

  “I know.”

  “You gonna be fine without me? Can you work with Corky?”

  “I’m gonna be fine with Corky. Got to. You need the money. I’ll send all I make. You’ll be happier with your sister.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Thelma, it don’t work out, you can come back. I’ll see to it myself.”

  “This place doesn’t want the likes of me.”

  Billy knew she was right. Glidewell Ranch was not a place for her. He knew he’d likely never see her again.

  Chapter 33

  Maizie’s Diary

  July 27, 1931

  Here is something. Capp says he may go away after summer. He says he is going to learn all about racing and breeding thoroughbred horses. He says not to tell anyone yet, so it’s a secret. I don’t like thinking that Capp is leaving. I get sad when I think about it.

  Mrs. Glidewell and I have been working hard. We have lots of horses and riders signed up for the match races. Guess people are seeing our posters around town. I sent letters to friends of the Glidewells inviting them to stay in the ranch house for the whole weekend. Why, we never had such a weekend. I can tell it is all important. Leon and Philippe have been working nonstop on the menus, and Ruby and Claire have scrubbed and cleaned every inch of the ranch house. The place is gleaming.

  I walked through the guest wing for the first time delivering flower vases. I’d never seen such nice bedrooms before, except for the Glidewells’ bedroom. Why, my mama would have loved to have spent just one minute in one of the rooms. I think about things like that when I think of my mama. I miss her, but don’t have much time during the day to give her much thought. It is at night when the moon is beaming in my window and quiet fills the room that Mama is on my mind. We spent many a night looking at the moon together. My mama would say that the moon reminds us that in darkness there may be light. Looking at the moon makes you wonder if something good is on its way. I like thinking about that. The other night as I lay thinking, my eyes closed. I felt a hand brush hair from my forehead. I remembered my mama doing that. When I opened my eyes, there stood Mrs. Glidewell, smiling at me, wishing me a good night.

  Bonne nuit, mon ami,

  Maizie Sunday Freedman

  Chapter 34

  The Start Barrier

  James woke with a start, his heart pounding. He had those thoughts again. He needed to talk with Capp. James had always been a gracious loser in life, but he needed to win the match race tournament. He wasn’t sure he could handle a loss, not now. This was the chance to make Glidewell the horse ranch he had envisioned, but it would take winning. He would feel more confident if Capp could reassure him.

  He turned in bed and noticed Mary was still asleep. Getting up quietly, he dressed and headed for the backside. Grabbing a cup of coffee at the mess hall, he proceeded to the track and found six riders putting horses through the paces of an early-morning workout. The scene did nothing to negate his mounting insecurities. Looking toward the edge of the track, he saw Capp leaning on the rail, the young man’s body moving to the rhythm of the pounding hooves.

  As James approached, Capp turned in surprise. “You’re up early.”

  “Couldn’t sleep. We need to talk, Capp.” Capp lowered his head and looked up slowly toward the track.

  “Sure.”

  “How is training going for the match races?”

  “Good.” Capp seemed to hesitate, as he put his foot up on the bottom rail. “Pretty good, I should say, except for one problem.”

  “What’s that?” James asked gripping the rail.

  “That new start barrier you got is going to take some time to get used to. Those catapults lifting the start ropes over Wild’s head makes him skittish. Seems he don’t like it.”

  “All of Glidewell Ranch is depending on you to run Wild into the winner’s circle. I want to take the tournament. It’s important to me, Capp. And I think you are my best chance to win.”

  “Yep, that’s what I’ll try to
do.”

  James threw his hands up in the air. “What do you mean, try? I want you to give me some confidence here.”

  Capp picked up his Stetson, sitting on the paddock fence post, and placed it on his head, running his fingers around the brim.

  “I’ll give it my all. It’s just that I’m wishing the start line was just that, a line in the dirt. Wild don’t like that start barrier. It’s a fearful, noisy contraption. He shies backwards or worse whenever the lever is pulled and the ropes fly.”

  “This is the assurance you give me? You’ll give it your all but the horse may have trouble at the start? Dang it, Capp.”

  “I want to win. And Wild is a good horse. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a problem at the start gate. The good thing about Wild is he wants to win too.”

  James put both of his hands on the rails and stretched his back. “I guess my anxieties are well founded. Haven’t slept well for a while.”

  “What do you mean your anxieties?”

  “I’m having negative thoughts. I need to win this, Capp. You hear what I am saying?” James waited for Capp to say what he wanted to hear, but there was no reassurance coming. With that, James turned around and walked back to the ranch house, more anxious than ever.

  Chapter 35

  Lessons Learned

  The sun crept over the hills, signaling to Maizie that it was time to run down to the backside to check on the new foals. The two fillies and one colt were in separate stalls, each with their mothers. Barely a month old, the foals had already been working with Jeb, learning to wear a halter and responding to a few touch commands. Maizie loved to help. When she arrived, she saw Jeb walking toward her with a halter in hand.