Through Tender Thorns

by Barbara Morriss

  “Looks like the asshole just clocked an unbeatable time,” Capp said to himself. Kicking a stone near his foot, he pulled on Wild’s reins and led him into the paddock.

  Before Capp began removing tack from Wild, he saw James talking to the Chief near the small barn. Leaving Wild in the saddling paddock, he walked slowly toward James, knowing the owner would have plenty to say to him. The Chief gestured, pointing in Capp’s direction. James took a few steps to intercept Capp.

  “Capp, what the hell happened?”

  “Bad start. Told you Running Wild gets jittery.”

  “Damn it, Capp, that other horse was no competition.”

  “Sorry. If the race had been just a few yards longer, I would have won.”

  “How is that supposed to make your poor performance palatable?”

  “It’s true. All I needed was a good start or more distance, and I would have taken it.”

  “Would have, could have, should have. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Who took the second heat in your group?”

  “Miles Moser. He’s an S.O.B. Boy, would I like to take that guy down.”

  “I would like that too,” James spat. “Seems you lost your chance, Capp.”

  “If you’d bought that starting mechanism sooner, Wild would have been ready. I’m disappointed too. Wild and me, we wanted the win.”

  “Not enough, I guess.”

  Capp watched as James walked back to continue his conversation with the chief. Capp could see the anger in James’s walk and the defeat weighing on his shoulders.

  The rest of the morning’s match races to determine the winner and consolation brackets went better for Glidewell. James ended up with three contenders in the winners’ bracket. This was a salve for James’s initial humiliation. Belle Brodie, Whoopee’s Child, and Devil Doll all won their heats.

  When the morning’s races were completed, people found shade and spread their picnics or bought food at the mess hall. Sun reflected on the small silver flasks that were being passed around the viewing knoll. The noise from the crowd took on a lighter tone as laughter filled the air. Children played games of tag and found sport in rolling down the green knoll, grass stains evident on their clothes.

  The afternoon races earned two Glidewell horses a qualifying position for Sunday’s winners’ draw. Devil Doll and Belle Brodie would compete against each other on Sunday for a place in the final, which meant Glidewell Ranch was assured representation in the final. On the other side of the draw, Mitt-Me-Kid, ridden by Neil Favor, would take on the now favorite, Scout’s Honor, and his rider, Miles Moser.

  The consolation bracket was left with four good horses: Red Sundown, Cinder Dick, Filly Flame, and Running Wild. By the end of the races on Saturday there was a great deal of interest in the outcome of Sunday’s winners’ bracket but little talk about the losers. Many gentlemen’s bets were being placed on Scout’s Honor. This bothered Capp. His dislike for Moser was breeding thoughts of retribution.

  While the spectators packed up their blankets, umbrellas, and chairs and headed for their cars, the ranch house was putting the final touches on the preparations for another party. This party was to be more elegant than the previous night. Tables were set up in the grand hall with fine linens, glassware, and silverware, and service for summer cocktails on the back veranda.

  As Capp walked to the Wembley cabin to get cleaned up for the night’s dinner, he heard the pounding of running boots behind him.

  “Capp! Capp!” cried a young groom. Capp waited for the kid to catch up.

  “What you want?” asked Capp.

  “This lady asked me to give this to you. Said she knows you.” The blond, freckled kid handed Capp a piece of Wrigley’s gum.

  “She said she saw both your races and will be back here tomorrow to see you. She says she knows you,” the boy explained.

  “That so?”

  “Yep, she said that just as sure as I’m standing here.”

  Capp took the gum from the young teenager’s hand. “Thanks,” he said. Unwrapping it he put the gum in his mouth. He was about to wad up the wrapper when he noticed a brief note written in tiny script. It said: Remember me? Meet me Sunday evening at the Franklin Hotel near the depot before 9 p.m. We can talk about your racing.

  Capp put the note in his shirt pocket. Finally, someone was paying him a little attention.

  “You know where she is right now?” Capp asked the messenger.

  “No, but I can find her. She’s the kind of gal you notice.”

  “Give her a message. Tell her to come to the ranch house this evening and ask for me. Tell her we are having a party and she’s invited.”

  Chapter 45

  Kick-off Dinner Party

  Evening August 8, 1931

  As the backside returned to the business of cooling, grooming, and feeding horses, the ranch house was actively preparing for the arrival of guests. The guests, mostly old friends of the Glidewells, hot and tired from the day at the track, found their way up the limestone steps to the front door. Leon greeted them, offering glasses of iced water, and suggested that those not spending the night use the servants’ quarters to freshen up.

  The overnight guests were in their assigned rooms getting ready for the evening. Mary, exhausted, went to her room to take a brief break before she began her hosting duties. Just as she lay down, there was a knock on her door.

  “Excuse me Mary, should I wear the blue party dress you bought for me?” Mary smiled and sat up on her bed.

  “Come in, Maizie. Why yes, of course, I think you should wear it. It is a beautiful dress, very chic. I also think we should put your hair up, find some earrings that look just right.”

  “I’m always getting something on my clothes in the kitchen. I’d hate to ruin my new dress.”

  Mary laughed. “You won’t be serving tonight. I want you at the dinner, hosting with me. I want you sitting at our table. Will you join us?”

  “I’ll be needed. We have a lot of guests.”

  “I know. I talked with Philippe and Leon. They have asked Ruby and Claire to help. There won’t be a problem. It’s important to me that you are at the head table.”

  “Really? The head table?”

  “I insist. It’s a reward for your hard work today.”

  “But Mrs. Glidewell, others will think…”

  “No matter, Maizie. We won’t worry what others think. We are having cocktails and a little music on the veranda around six p.m. I don’t want my office assistant late,” declared Mary. “Now run along.”

  Maizie left the Glidewell bedroom stunned. The idea of sitting at the family table made her uncomfortable. She’d rather be working, serving the guests. Making conversation with adults put her ill at ease. But, as was her practice, she would comply. Walking down the hall, she was drawn into Mary’s office. Opening the door, she walked to her desk and noticed there did not appear to be anything new or urgent. She was just about to leave when she saw a stack of open mail on Mary’s side table. It wasn’t her habit to snoop, but the temptation was too great. Placed on the top was a neatly scripted letter to James. Maizie picked it up and read it. It was an invitation for Capp to come to Louisville, Kentucky. The letter mentioned that apprenticeships would be available to qualified horsemen at the barns of Churchill Downs. Maizie placed the letter back on Mary’s desk, wondering if Capp knew.

  As the evening drew nigh and the air began to cool, the sky above Glidewell Ranch was dressed in a display of yellow, violet, and blue. Maizie, saddened by the fact that Capp might be leaving, didn’t notice the beauty around her.

  The ranch-house guests began to gather on the back veranda. Ruby and Claire served trays of canapés, fresh garden vegetables, and offerings of French blue cheese, crostini, and poached figs. Partygoers were offered a summer drink made with white port, sparkling water, a twist of lemon, and a waterme
lon spear. The veranda was festively dressed with bouquets of purple amaranth, cherry-colored zinnia, candy tuft, and brown-eyed Susans from Ol’ Jon’s flower garden. A table was set up with a large spray of flowers and individual tiny corsages of fragrant lavender and white candy tuft for the ladies’ hair.

  Mary and James met in James’s office to discuss a few details concerning the evening’s dinner. They covered a variety of subjects, including the letter from Churchill Downs, but before they left to join the others, James pulled Mary towards him. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “For what?”

  “For being you, for being at my side, for putting up with all this, for working so hard.”

  Mary looked up at her husband as he held her. “You know, James, the ranch really isn’t what I would have chosen. Guess I’m more of a city girl. But I love you, and I’m happy because you’re happy. The way I see it, what we have here is a huge family of dependents. We’re responsible. I feel that every day. In some ways, it’s a wonderful feeling; in other ways, it’s terrifying.”

  “I know, Mary, I know. Where would these people go, if not for the ranch?”

  “I don’t know,” said Mary quietly.

  Chapter 46

  The Dinner Guest

  Men and women gathered in small circles on the veranda following the exciting first day of match races. The evening was warm bathed in beautiful summer evening light. Mary and James walked among the crowd offering greetings and small talk. Wearing her blue party dress, Mary’s pearl-drop earrings, and her hair in a loose knot, Maizie appeared older than her sixteen years. Introducing herself, she offered to help pin one of Ol’ Jon’s hair corsages on each female guest. Most women accepted and felt calmed by the soothing fragrance of lavender.

  A photographer, Rye Fulton from Ranch Styles magazine, was snapping photographs of anyone willing to pose for him. He had been at the backside all morning and afternoon taking pictures during the event. Good at not drawing attention to himself, the man approached Maizie quietly.

  “A beautiful girl like you needs her picture taken.” Maizie looked his way with her striking cobalt-blue eyes. He pressed the shutter, smiled, and moved on to someone else.

  Maizie saw the Wembleys and Sugar make their way to the party on the veranda. She walked over. “You all will be sitting at the head table with the Glidewells. Mrs. Glidewell insisted,” said Maizie.

  “Why, we’d be obliged,” said Wil. He nodded to both Capp and Sugar.

  “Would you like a wine cooler?” Maizie offered.

  “Think I’d prefer whiskey, if you got it.”

  “We sure do.” Maizie smiled.

  “None for me,” said Capp as he scanned the veranda.

  “You lookin’ for someone, Capp?” Maizie asked.

  “Yes, a friend. Excuse me.” Leaving Maizie standing there, he walked back into the house and found Leon checking table place settings.

  “Leon, glad I found you. I might have a guest join me at the head table. Could you set an extra place next to me, just in case?”

  “Mais oui, Capp. I’ll let the Glidewells know.”

  At the conclusion of the outdoor cocktail party, the guests were invited into the ranch house and found their pre-assigned seats. Leon, Ruby, and Claire made their way around the room pouring glasses of water and making sure all guests were comfortable. Waiters opened bottles of Theo Tillerman’s offering of French champagne, the guests cheering as the first cork flew across the room.

  Maizie was seated next to Mary at the head table. The place card for the empty seat next to her was Capp’s. Her heart took a leap. A soft smile formed on her lips. And it wasn’t long before Capp stood near talking with Leon. After a brief conversation, Capp took his seat without so much as a hello. Maizie couldn’t help but notice sweat on Capp’s brow.

  “Where you been?” she asked, realizing immediately it really was no business of hers.

  “I ran back to the backside. I thought my friend might have gotten lost.”

  “Who’s your friend, Capp?”

  “Just a gal I met at a horse auction a while back,” he said, gazing into his champagne glass and tapping his fingers. “You want this, Maizie? I’m not drinking.” She quietly shook her head. She was hesitant to bring up the letter from Louisville. While the waiters continued to distribute champagne to all fifty guests, Maizie felt as though she was being ignored. Not wanting Mary to hear, she whispered, “Capp, are you mad at me?”

  “Why you askin’ that?” Capp asked while fiddling with his table service.

  “You seem angry is all.” Maizie’s voice was quiet and raised no eyebrows, but Capp’s agitation was evident in the pitch of his voice.

  “I guess I’m still upset about losing,” said Capp a little too loud. Guests at the head table now turned their heads to the young couple. Some stared with great interest while pointing at them.

  “Understandable. Don’t take it out on me,” said Maizie.

  “I don’t like people trying to make me feel better. Like they are sorry for me.”

  “Did it seem like I felt sorry for you? I was just trying…”

  “It gets irritating when everyone says I almost won, like that should be enough.”

  “I was just trying to make you feel better. That’s what friends do.” Suddenly Maizie looked up and saw that all the people at the head table were quiet and looking their way. She lowered her head and stared woefully at the table cloth, embarrassed.

  Capp did not seem to notice. Waving his index finger at Maizie he added, “There. That’s what irks me. I lost. I’m still smartin’ about it. No amount of sympathizin’ talk will change that. So stop tryin’. Besides that, Miles got my goat. I have no chance to beat that guy now.” Maizie could hear Capp’s disappointment and anger in his tone and noticed his interest in the clock on the wall. “Why do you keep looking at the clock?”

  Capp looked surprised at Maizie’s observational skills. Hesitating, he finally said, “My friend is late. Maybe I am worried about her.”

  “I see. Capp, will you be leaving the ranch soon? You know to go away for a while?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

  “Hope so. Don’t know for sure. Dad sent a letter to Churchill Downs. They might have something for me.”

  Maizie nodded, knowing what Capp was saying was true. “Do you want to go?” Maize’s throat had grown tight. The words were hard to say.

  “I want to go real bad. I want to learn about raising thoroughbreds. Help bring them to Glidewell. But Mr. Glidewell didn’t like me losing today, so maybe he won’t send me.” Capp frowned, his hand in a fist. At the end of the table, there was a rustling as James stood, ringing his glass with a fork.

  “Welcome, everyone. Mary and I are honored you are all here. I’d like to make a toast. Here’s to a Glidewell victory tomorrow. We’ve got three in the running.” The guests all stood with glasses raised and cheered. Capp kept his seat, took his napkin and rearranged it on his lap, looking again at the clock on the wall.

  After the toast, Leon, Ruby, and Claire brought in trays filled with plates of slow-roasted lamb and potatoes. The chef, Philippe, walked from table to table explaining the dish and fishing for compliments. He demonstrably kissed his fingertips and looked to each guest as he proclaimed, “C’est bon. Non?”

  “Oh yes, delicious.” The guests nodded as they wiped their mouths.

  “It’s called gigot d’agneau pleureur, which means ‘crying lamb.’ Succulent, non?” He went on to explain how the lamb weeps as it bakes over sliced potatoes, creating a savory summer classic. There were a few who took delight in learning about French cuisine, but most just nodded and kept on eating.

  Those at the head table were talking about the races scheduled for the next day. Capp appeared to be listening as people expressed predictions on Sunday’s outcomes. There was no talk of Capp and his fine quarter
horse. Instead there was a great deal of talk about Moser and his incredible quarter horse, Scout’s Honor.

  Leon came behind Capp and whispered into his ear. Capp put his napkin on the table and slid back his chair. He followed Leon to the front foyer. Standing next to the door was a striking woman. There was a sense of mystery about her as her face was in shadow. As Capp moved closer, he was certain it was the girl from the horse auction—the girl who’d offered him Wrigley’s gum. A glimmer of recognition sparked in Capp’s eyes, although she did look different. “I figured the note was from you. The Wrigley’s gave it away.”

  “Bet you are surprised I came. I saw a poster at a feed store in town. Your name was on it. Luck, I guess.”

  “I could use a little luck today. Sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

  “Matilda Coombs, from Parkway Farm, Louisville.” The two locked eyes and stared comfortably at each other.

  “Louisville, Kentucky.”

  “Yes. A place where real racehorses live.”

  A smile was slowly growing on Capp’s face. “Come, you’ll sit next to me.”

  “I’d like that,” she said. Her eyes were still as she continued to look at Capp.

  Capp and Matilda walked from the foyer to the great hall. Maizie watched as Capp pulled a chair out for his guest. He took his seat between Maizie and Matilda. Ruby served Matilda a dinner plate filled with the French cuisine. Raising his voice Capp stood and after apologizing for his manners, he introduced Matilda to all at the table. Folks politely welcomed her. Sitting back down, he leaned back toward Matilda and began a long and engaging conversation, his back to Maizie.

  Matilda ate little of her dinner or dessert but managed to down several glasses of champagne. The two conversed nonstop and soon they were on the subject of Miles Moser. Matilda was quite sympathetic to Capp’s loss and was able to magically smooth his injured ego. Encouraged by her understanding, Capp told all seated around him that he’d give anything to leave Miles Moser in the dust on the track. Maybe next year, he concluded.