Through Tender Thorns

by Barbara Morriss

  We all went to dinner in the hotel. It was a good dinner, but I didn’t eat much. I just kept lookin’ at Capp. He is so handsome, and his smile just makes me swoon. I saw it in a picture show once, a woman swooned when a man kissed her. That’s how I know about swooning. She put her hand to her forehead and fainted after the kiss. Now I understand why the woman did that. When Capp lifted me up, I forgot all about being mad at him. After dinner when we all walked back to our rooms, James unlocked my door, and he and Mary said good night, leaving Capp and I standing there. I could tell Mary didn’t want to leave, but James made her. I think James is the only person that can get Mary to do something she doesn’t want to do.

  But here’s what happened. Capp looked into my eyes and smiled a little smile. He said he was looking forward to sharing with me all he’d learned. Not just about horses either. I didn’t ask him any questions although I was wondering about Matilda. Then a few curls fell on his forehead. My heart beat faster and for one moment I lost my breath. Don’t know what it is about him, but he sure makes me feel something.

  Maybe all this is a gift from my guardian angels. It has to be. I am almost certain. I’ve never been in a fine hotel before, or ridden in a Pullman car, or packed beautiful clothes into a leather suitcase, but here I am, all dressed up and feeling pretty. I thought about Mary and James in the room across the hall—so close by. This made me feel safe and secure. And Capp is only a few doors down. That makes my heart sing. He’s falling asleep, just like me. I wonder if he’s thinking of me.

  Maybe my nightmares are over. Maybe instead of raging rivers, charging boars, and strange men I can be thinking of a family that includes Mary and James and everyone else at Glidewell? Is it possible I’ll have my own family one day? Maybe Capp is my guardian brother angel. Who knows? The thought fills me with warmth. I am feeling very happy tonight. Like all my worries have washed away for now. I just made a vow not to worry about my color any more. Not now, not this weekend, I hope never.

  Bonne nuit, mon ami,

  Maizie Sunday Freedman

  Chapter 75

  Kentucky Derby

  May 7, 1932

  The early morning of the Kentucky Derby held the promise of a cool, dry day. This fact was good news to all Derby participants; most horses prefer a dry track to a sodden one. The Buick Marquette pulled up to Churchill Downs and parked in the VIP parking spot reserved for the Glidewells. James, Mary and Maizie climbed out of the car and walked to Bob Hench’s barn to see the new Glidewell horses and find Wil and Capp. James, upon entering, took in a deep breath of horse, hay, and leather.

  “Mary and Maizie, come over here. I want you to see the yearling we bought,” James said with pride. Maizie ran to the stall and looked in. The colt was small, but he was a beautiful light chestnut with blond mane, forelock and tail. His eyes were soft and warm, and he did not appear frightened to have a crowd of three strangers outside his stall.

  “Oh, he’s beautiful,” said Maizie.

  “Maizie, please call me Dad around here. Got to keep our cover,” James said lightly. “This little guy may be small, but we are hoping he will have a growth spurt under your care. He moves well and Capp says he’ll be easy to train.”

  Maizie reached to stroke the yearling’s neck and the young horse began to nuzzle her through the stall bars. James opened the gate and let Maizie in. “Go on, he’s a sweet boy.” Maizie walked into the stall and patted the yearling’s chest and then stroked his flank. “I think he likes me,” said Maizie.

  “He’s yours, Maizie.” James smiled.

  Maizie put her hand to the colt’s forehead and then scratched between his ears. The horse nickered in appreciation. “I’ll have to think of a good name. One that fits him.”

  James and Mary were now arm in arm watching Maizie as she got to know the new horse. “I mean it, Maizie. He’s yours. He’ll never be sold, unless you sell him.” Maizie looked at James warmly. “Really? He is mine forever?”

  “Yes. Of course, with ownership comes responsibility,” James reminded her.

  “Oh, I’ll take care of him. I’ll train him as best I can. Tommy will help me.”

  James opened the stall gate to allow Maizie out and they continued their tour of the barn and beyond. There was more stock to see. The excitable dapple gray was a feast for the eyes, a beautiful horse with good conformation. He showed them Black Ace, the stud stallion, and the two half-sister mares sired by Blue Larkspur. Cherokee Sunrise was a source of pride, being the first Glidewell horse to win a race, albeit a claiming race. The other three claim horses were with Capp and Wil for their morning workouts. All the new horses were sound, all thoroughbreds, and all with potential for racing, breeding, or other purposes.

  “They are all gorgeous, James. Guess you really are a thoroughbred owner. I love the dapple gray,” said Mary.

  “He’s in need of good training. I hope he works out. Capp has been working him on the track. He’s running well,” said James. “Maybe you could ride him. Improve your horse-handling skills.”

  “Are you kidding? I’ll stick with my quarter horse, thank you very much. But I appreciate your vote of confidence.” James smiled and pulled Mary to his side.

  Soon Capp and Wil came into the barn leading the two claimed mares and stallion. A groom approached and offered to finish the cool down. Handing over the reins, Capp gave the groom a few instructions and then walked over to Maizie. “Good to see you so happy this morning, Maizie.”

  “Things are looking up. James is giving me this colt.”

  “Is that so? What you going to call the yearling? At the Idle Hour they called him “Little Fella,” and on the pedigree he was named Blue Blessing,” explained Capp.

  “Is it okay to change his name again?” asked Maizie.

  “Done all the time,” assured Capp.

  Maizie began to think and then her face lit up. “I’m going to name him Jebediah. After Jeb.”

  Capp looked at Maizie and smiled. “Don’t you want to get to know that little fella first, before you name him?

  “No, Jeb’s the one who taught me how to train a foal. He deserves to have a good horse named for him.

  Capp looked deeply into Maizie’s blue eyes and nodded. “Listen, Dad and I have to clean up at the bunkhouse. Guess I’ll see you later in Colonel Bradley’s box.”

  The Turf Club, as it was called, was reserved for members and their guests. Colonel Bradley had kindly offered James and his family seating at his table. The colonel, a highly respected horseman and breeder, was well known among the club’s workers, who made a special effort to please him.

  The colonel proved to be an interesting host and talked about his two champions, Burgoo King and Brother Joe, both qualified for the Derby. “These two stallions are stable mates. People think Burgoo King will work to help Brother Joe win by blocking other horses that challenge him, but I’m telling you here and now there is no such plan. Brother Joe will win it on his own, fair and square.”

  James put down his menu. “Does that happen? Horses working to help another horse win?”

  “I’m afraid there are races that look like that. But we at Idle Hour don’t intentionally run races that way. Wait until you see my boys run. They are bred for it, love the race, and have heart. Like Blue Larkspur, horse of the year. Now there was a horse that had heart. Never won this Derby, but a courageous animal.”

  “I bought two of your mares who were sired by Blue Larkspur. Means a lot to me,” James admitted and again looked at his menu.

  “Hope you get a racehorse out of one of them. They are fine mares.”

  James smiled proudly at the colonel’s remark.

  Mary and Maizie listened to the horse talk but were more interested in the excitement percolating in the dining room. Mary noticed “burgoo stew” on the menu and asked, “So is this stew named after your horse, Colonel?”

 
“No, burgoo stew is a wonderful concoction created by a friend of mine. It has become quite popular here in Kentucky. Felt I should honor such a good cook by naming a horse after him and his stew. All my horses’ names begin with the letter B like Bradley, so the name worked perfectly.”

  “Have you had many winners, Colonel?” asked Mary, still thinking about ordering the stew.

  “I have had winners, but only a few have become champions. I’m proud to say that Behave Yourself won the Derby in 1921 and Bubbling Over in 1926. Burgoo King is the son of Bubbling Over. So that horse has a proud heritage.”

  “Think my ordering burgoo stew will help your boys win?” James joked.

  The colonel laughed. “Couldn’t hurt. I highly recommend the stew. And be sure to finish your lunch off with a slice of Derby pie.”

  Chapter 76

  Tilly, Tilly, Tilly

  Tilly arrived at the backside in the early afternoon looking like the siren she was. She had it all: the looks, the walk, the banter. She enjoyed the cat whistles from the stable hands. She realized her behavior was considered improper, but as she grew older, she enjoyed attracting men’s attention more and more. The more refined men only stared at her as she walked toward the grandstand nearest the finish line. These men with their subtle smiles hung in small groups wearing their fine suits and fedoras. She enjoyed their good, long stares just as much as a cowboy’s whistle.

  Climbing up the stairs she saw that her parents had saved her a seat. She sidled in next to her mother and asked to borrow her father’s binoculars. She began to scope the area for Capp. She had no idea where he might watch the race but was certain it would be either in the track’s interior or near the outside rail. She doubted he would have tickets for the grandstand.

  “Matilda dear, you look nice,” her mother said. “Where are Martin and all his friends? I do enjoy those boys.”

  “They are nipping on flasks by the saddling paddock. I’m looking at them right now.”

  “He’s a nice boy, that Martin. Does he drink too much? Why, your dad and I were just saying… ”

  “Mother, please. I don’t want to talk right now.” Tilly adjusted herself on the seat, straightened her back, and went back to looking for Capp.

  The Churchill Downs grounds were filling up with well-dressed spectators and diehard horserace fans. Men were looking sharp in suits. Since it was a cooler spring day, not wet but overcast, some had on trench coats. The women put forth a display of spring color as well as neutrals and navy. They wore hats in all shapes, styles, and colors. Some, like Tilly’s, were adorned with flowers, but most were simple hats suitable for a spring afternoon: feathered homburgs, down-tilted sailors, pillboxes, and cloches. Men wore fedoras, homburgs, walkers, and boaters. Fashion was on display.

  As the preliminary races were about to start, spectators found either their seats or a place to view the finish line. The chatter and excitement began to mount. For each race the horses paraded in front of the stands and spectators placed their bets. The colors on display added beauty and pageantry. The horses were guided into the gates for the start. The bell sounded and they were off!

  Each winner of a pre-Derby event enjoyed a moment of glory in the winner’s circle, the jockey smiling broadly and patting the neck of his mount. There were cheers for the lesser races, but everyone was anticipating the Kentucky Derby, the granddaddy of them all.

  Tilly had given up looking for Capp on the grounds and decided to focus on the seats in front of her. And that was when she saw him. It was the movement of Capp and Mary changing seats that caught Tilly’s eye. She refocused her binoculars and aimed them directly at Capp. She had never seen him in a suit before, but his signature Stetson was there. She noticed that when Capp sat down, he leaned into a young woman and whispered in her ear. She felt a rush of jealousy followed by a tinge of anger. With the binoculars securely set on the scene she identified the people around Capp. Mr. and Mrs. Glidewell and that girl Maizie. She put the binoculars on her lap, gripping them tightly while her jealousy simmered.

  Once again she raised the field glasses to her eyes. Her throat tightened as her fingers gripped the binoculars. What Tilly saw next she found maddening. Capp, in a gesture of sweetness, helped the young woman take off her coat and placed his hand on the small of her back, again leaning in, smiling and talking. Maizie moved slightly closer to Capp. He put his arm around her as well and pulled her toward him, and the two smiled. Capp seemed to be having a good time. Tilly’s feelings escalated into an angry boil.

  Chapter 77

  The Return

  "Mon dieu, I don’t know what else we can do with Josie,” Leon said to Sugar.

  “Doesn’t seem right that we aren’t askin’ the Glidewells first,” Sugar said.

  “Well, they are not ’ere, so we cannot ask,” Leon reminded her. “It eez so sad, mon amie. She eez just une jeune femme and so sick.

  “They will say no. Didn’t you say they fired her?”

  “Oui, oui, and she was supposed to go to ’er papa, but ’e wouldn’t take ’er in. I found ’er lying on the road. Can’t we use one of the cabins? For a week or two. Until she’s better.”

  “I sure don’t want to lose my job over this.”

  “Please Sugar, come see ’er.”

  Sugar put down her mop and followed Leon out to the Packard. He opened the back door of the touring car and there on the pristine leather upholstery lay a sick, filthy, and bald Josie. Flushed with fever, her hands on her abdomen and her legs pulled up into a fetal position, she moaned softly.

  “Why is she bald? She looks like she’s been sheared like a lamb.”

  “I took ’er to the doctor in Springfield. They wouldn’t treat her until ’er head was shaven. She had head lice. Her case was as bad as they’d ever seen. The nurse took ’er outside and shaved ’er. Threw ’er hair on a garbage heap.”

  “Poor child. Where’d you find her?”

  “I saw ’er walking down the road near the homeless camp. Corky asked me to take the left-over canned foods from the mess hall and give them to their soup kitchen. And then she collapsed, fainted right in front of my eyes.”

  “You stopped for her?”

  “Mais oui. She needed ’elp.”

  Sugar put her hand on Josie’s forehead and could feel the intensity of her fever. “She’s a child of God. I know that. We got to take care of the less fortunate.”

  “Yes, and she’s Josie, Sugar. Can we hide ’er ’ere and when she gets better, I’ll take ’er back to town? Maybe the shelter will take ’er in if she’s clean.”

  “I sho’ don’t like not tellin’ the Glidewells.”

  “I’ll tell them when they get home. I’ll tell them I forced you. That you said non.”

  Sugar smiled at Leon and put her hand on his shoulder. “Now we’s in this together. You hear? I figured it out. We doin’ God’s work for him ’cause he ain’t got the time to worry about this poor girl.”

  “Oh mon amie, merci, merci. I felt so bad when she was fired. She seemed so alone. I know she did wrong, but…”

  “I say we put her in the small cabin farthest from the track. Don’t nobody go there. I’ll get my bleach and swab it down.”

  “Merci.”

  “What’s all wrong with her? She gonna give us all something. She don’t have the influenza, does she?”

  “Doctor says she has the clap.”

  “The clap. Well, that ain’t good. She got head lice and the clap. Now what we gonna do with her?”

  “They cleaned ’er ’ead. The nits are all gone. She got pneumonia too. And she eez unclean in that other way. Doctor says ’e’ll come treat ’er for a few months, but the pneumonia eez bad.”

  “Leon, we‘ll put ’er in the small cabin. I’ll find ’er some clothes. Burn the ones she’s got in the incinerator. But she can’t stay here for months. She’s so sick s
he gonna need several people to take care of ’er.”

  Sugar looked at Josie and picked up her hand. Josie’s face was riddled with pain, her hand gripping tightly to Sugar’s dress. There was desperation in the young girl’s eyes. She tried to say something, but Sugar couldn’t hear her.

  Leaning closer she heard, “Please. The pain. I’m so tired.”

  “Doc give you any medicine, Leon?”

  “Says to give ’er aspirin.”

  Sugar looked into Josie’s eyes and said softly, “Now look here, child, you’ve had one hard time. Ain’t no one here gonna bother you. Sugar, she take care of you.” Sugar again felt her forehead. Josie reached weakly and put her hand on Sugar’s.

  Leon felt a rush of relief. The world may be a hateful place, but Glidewell wasn’t. Within the Osage orange-tree fence, people walked safely, were fed, and had their needs met. That’s how he felt being here. A man who loved another man was only safe at Glidewell. And he sensed that, despite her history, Josie might be safer here too.

  When the cabin was scrubbed and clean linens were on the bed, Leon and Sugar helped Josie up the cabin stairs and into a chair next to the bed. Josie was so weak she found it difficult to sit up. “Leon, help me get her out of these filthy clothes and into the tub. You bothered by a naked, sick woman?”

  “No, Sugar, had two sisters older than me. I’ve seen a woman before.”

  The tub safely supported Josie and Sugar could give her a decent sponge bath before putting her in the clean bed. “Poor thing is so thin. My clothes will be bigger than she needs but will have to do.” Sugar draped a towel over the tub concealing Josie’s nakedness from Leon and then ran to look for some suitable clothes. When she returned with two nightgowns, a head wrap, an old cardigan, and clean socks, she dismissed Leon. “Please fill this bucket with warm water from the laundry room. Then the rest is my work, Leon.”