Through Tender Thorns

by Barbara Morriss

  “Your daddy would stand right there in the front with the choir behind him. Why, there were times folks would be so full of the joy of God that they’d be dancing in the aisles. Like they did at your concert, Maizie.”

  “How do you know what the church was like, Millie?”

  “My family came here off and on. We had relatives that were like your daddy and you. Part white, part colored. We were always welcome even though we was white. My parents believed everyone equal. They were in a minority, but they were freedom fighters for the colored. My parents did all they could to help.”

  “Like Buckus Del Henny?”

  “Yep, like Buckus. My daddy always said that the Lord would pass judgment on those who did harm to coloreds because we’s all children of God,” added Millie.

  Choosing a side door, Millie led them down a few steps and around the back of the building. Following a path through a grassy field, they came upon a small cemetery surrounded by a picket fence. In the center of the enclosed area was a large tree standing like a sentinel for the colored souls placed in this hallowed ground. Millie opened the gate and allowed Meadowlark, Maizie, and Sugar to pass through. Closing the gate, Millie led the group to a small headstone inscribed with the name Gabriel “Gabe” Freedman.

  Maizie stood quietly. She’d had little practice praying, but the weight of the moment caused her to lower her head and then go down on her knees. The group of friends stepped back and gave her time to do whatever she needed to do.

  Chapter 92

  Tilly’s Back

  After a tough winter training season in Arkansas, trainers and horses returned to Churchill Downs, settling into their familiar barns. As everyone looked forward to spring and stake races, the backside was coming to life.

  Around the grounds, trainers were hiring grooms and stable hands to help handle the influx of thoroughbreds. It wouldn’t be long before the Kentucky Derby, Preakness, and Belmont would be on everyone’s lips. The developing excitement drew onlookers too. Standing near a corral was Tilly Coombs Garner, looking fetching in her tight-fitting western wear. She was busy flirting with a few of the grooms. Like catching flies with honey, she talked suggestively as the men succumbed to her charms.

  Bob Hench was making the rounds when he saw the crowd of men hovering around Tilly. He approached the group of men with an air of authority.

  “Tilly? What you doin’ here?”

  Tilly adjusted the sleeves on her shirt, pushing them up to just below her elbows. “Hello, Mr. Hench. Just sayin’ hi to my old friends,” she explained while chewing on a wad of Wrigley’s. About five of the men were chewing gum as well. The smell of spearmint was heavy in the air.

  “Martin know you’re here?” asked Bob.

  “Martin? Nah, he don’t know. None of his business, anyway. We are done. Not married anymore. Didn’t work out,” she explained.

  “You workin’ here again?”

  “Nope. I could, mind you, but I’m helpin’ out at home. Just came by to say hi.”

  Bob looked at the group of men more carefully and saw two of his own grooms standing sheepishly behind the others. “My guys need to get back to work. There is too much to do around here to be standin’ around laughin’ with Tilly and chewing gum.”

  Bob’s men, hands in pockets, heads down, quickly moved away. Taking the lead of Bob Hench’s men, the others pivoted and headed back toward the track too.

  “Tilly, I don’t want you hanging around my barn or my boys. Other trainers wouldn’t like it any more than me. You hearin’ me? We got a lot of work to do, and they don’t need any distractions. They are on the dock day and night ’til the Derby is over.”

  “Are you sayin’ I’m not allowed here?” asked Tilly as she finger combed a strand of her wavy bleached-blond hair.

  “That’s what I’m sayin’,” confirmed Bob.

  Tilly looked around slowly and then smirked and asked, “You ever talk with that kid who worked for you a few years back? The one who came from some fancy horse ranch in Missouri.”

  “Capp Wembley?”

  “Yeh, Capp was his name. He still workin’ with horses?”

  “They are workin’ with horses. They have some nice thoroughbred stock.”

  “Sounds like they are doin’ well.”

  “I reckon. Tilly, I got to get back to my work.”

  “Sure Bob, go on. Don’t worry. I don’t have time for wranglers, trainers, riders, or stable hands anymore. Learned my lesson. I’m lookin’ for a man with money.”

  “Well, in this economy, good luck.”

  “Oh, there’s plenty with money around here. You know that, Bob,” corrected Tilly.

  “If you say so.” Bob tipped his hat, and left Tilly standing alone.

  Walking back to her car, Tilly suddenly changed directions and headed to her old office. She found Marion Milsap, her replacement, sitting at her old desk. Marion looked up from her work, saw Tilly, and said, “Your father isn’t here. He’s gone to inspect the barns.”

  “I didn’t come to see Daddy. I wonder if I could look through my old desk drawers. I worry that I left a few things.”

  “I cleaned out all the drawers when I took the position a year ago. I put things I thought were yours in that box under the counter. I was just about to give it a heave-ho. I asked your father to take it, but he said I should just throw it out. I kept it because I thought something might be important.”

  “Thoughtful of you, Marion.”

  Tilly bent down and picked up the cardboard box. Quickly rummaging through it, she found a pair of high heels, a tube of lipstick, a hairbrush, a few ribbons, a coffee cup, two old ledgers, a half-used pack of Wrigley’s, and an address book with a few phone numbers. Realizing all would be lost if she didn’t find someone to help her keep the farm, a tinge of anger bubbled as the memory of Capp brought up old feelings of need, desire, and rejection. She thumbed through the address book and found the Glidewell Ranch’s phone number and P.O. Box. Smiling, she closed the book, picked up the box and carried it to her car.

  Chapter 93

  Maizie’s Diary

  April 25, 1934

  Meadowlark, Sugar, and I just got back from Vicksburg, the place I was born. When we got to the depot, Capp drove the Packard to meet us. He was there before I could climb down the steps from the train. He picked me up and hugged me so tight, I almost couldn’t breathe. I think Sugar and Meadowlark were surprised. He put his head on my shoulder and kept sayin’ that he missed me so much. I hugged him back and told him I had much to tell him. He lifted his head and smiled so broadly I thought his lips might crack. It was good to be home.

  I told Mary I’d decided to go to college. Capp encouraged me, said I should give it a try. Mary said Capp was being wise. That is one of the nicest things Mary has said about Capp in a long time. Mary says that James will contact people he knows and he is certain he can get me in.

  My trip to Vicksburg helped me understand some things. Seems that my mama was a Del Henny, just like Buckus. Truth is if my mama was a Del Henny that would be true for me too. I told Mary and James. They were stunned. I don’t know if they believed the story, but James said, “Well, that settles it, Mazie. You do belong here.”

  Bonne nuit mon ami,

  Maizie Sunday Freedman

  Chapter 94

  Admissions Office

  Late April 1934

  James and Mary escorted Maizie to Drury College in Springfield. They met with the admissions officer, a middle-aged woman with an officious air. She said it was very rare to admit someone who hadn’t attended high school, but there was precedence. “How could a student possibly be prepared?” she questioned out loud. “But there are few women in attendance right now. Families are sending their sons, not daughters. We would like a few more women. Keeps the men in line.”

  James asked if she had read the le
tter of recommendation from Maizie’s tutor which not only described her competence and eagerness with studies, but also the rigorous academic tests she passed under the professor’s tutelage. “If that doesn’t suffice, may I suggest Maizie be given a test to determine if she is academically ready?”

  The admissions officer straightened a few papers on her desk and remained unresponsive. James, in a gesture of frustration, slid a typed document with signatures toward her. It was a grant scholarship in the Glidewell name to be used for students like Maizie. “This is a promissory agreement that states should you grant Maizie the privilege of an education, I will be offering a scholarship to one other student this year.” James went on to explain that Maizie was an orphan with no close kin, and that James and Mary were her legal guardians and considered Maizie their daughter.

  “She is musically gifted and would benefit greatly from the fine musical program you have here. If you accept this scholarship for another deserving orphan with musical talent, I will happily provide the money agreed upon for a specified number of years to come. We can negotiate those terms. I will also make a five-thousand-dollar donation to the music department.”

  Before James, Mary, and Maizie left the admissions office, James had agreed to offer the scholarship for a decade. The admissions officer couldn’t say no. Maizie’s curriculum would consist of history, English, literature, and music, with a little math and science. She auditioned and was given a position in the choir and was scheduled to start next semester.

  There was no mention of Maizie’s heritage, nor was there any suggestion that Maizie needed to take an entrance test. Drury College needed paying students. The Depression had put the school in financial jeopardy. Maizie coming to Drury was a windfall, plain and simple, money in the coffers.

  Chapter 95

  The Inheritance

  “Bonjour, Glidewell Ranch,” Leon said over the phone.

  “Is Capp Wembley there?”

  “Non, ‘e ‘eez not. May I take a message?” asked Leon in his thick but understandable French accent.

  “I see. Is he on the property?”

  “Eez possible.”

  “Will you go look?”

  “No madame, I’ll not. Capp lives and works at the backside. A ways from ‘ere.”

  “It’s very important. Surely you can find him.”

  “No madame, I cannot. May I take a message?”

  “I’ve talked with you before. I recognize your fancy accent. Did you ever deliver any of my messages? Have you seen my letters?”

  “It eez my duty to deliver all messages and letters.”

  “Then deliver this message. Tell him Miss Coombs called from Kentucky. Tell him I need to speak with him. It’s very important. Do you understand English?”

  Leon removed the phone from his ear. Angered by her assuming he didn’t comprehend English, he yelled his response, in French, into the receiver. “Je comprends l’anglais, madame! Au revoir,” and hung up.

  On the other end of the line Tilly slammed the phone down thinking it was quite rude of Leon to speak French. Damn foreigners! she thought, stomping from the room in her everyday high heels. Succumbing to her annoyance, she almost ran into her mother coming down the hall.

  “Matilda dear, you nearly knocked me over.”

  “I could say the same of you, Mother.”

  “Sweetie, where’s your respect?”

  “I got to run. Have you seen my pack of Wrigley’s gum? It was right here, yesterday!”

  “No, I haven’t seen your gum. Where’re you going, dear? Lunch will be ready soon.”

  “Lunch? I can’t possibly think of lunch now. My life is ruined. Martin is gone. My farm will be gone soon.”

  “Your farm?”

  “Can’t we find someone else to lease the farm? Then we won’t lose it. This place is my inheritance. I’m losing everything.” Tilly began to cry.

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Martin. If you’d been nicer, a better wife maybe…”

  “Nicer? A better wife? Oh Mother. I was nice. I was a very good wife. We just fought a lot. He didn’t want a baby. He was mad about that. Blamed me! So I had it taken care of.”

  “Why you would go off and have an abortion, I’ll never know. Why, in my day…”

  “Oh Mother, please. Not this again.”

  “You nearly died. It gave me no pleasure to see you go through that. You are drinking too much, too! I’m worried about you. You don’t seem right, even now. And look at you, so angry all the time.” Tilly stared coldly into her mother’s eyes but said nothing. “Don’t you know how hard this is on your father?” asked her mother.

  “Mother I know what’s going on. Dad can’t get a loan. The bank won’t risk it. That was his last hope. Now we really need a horse rancher to partner with us. I want this farm when you and Daddy are gone. I got to have it. I’ll die a poor woman. I’ll die alone.”

  “You are being dramatic, dear.”

  “Dramatic? Well, listen to this! I’m getting me a handsome horse rancher and this ranch or farm or whatever you call it. There’s a horse rancher that loves me. You wait and see. He is good-looking and bona fide. He has contacts. He’ll find someone to lease the farm. I’ll convince him.”

  Chapter 96

  Glidewell Ranch

  Christmas 1934

  Despite the cold that descended as the winter season approached, work at the backside continued. The men were tending to the horses, young and old. Yearlings were trained gently as they gained size and awareness. Pregnant mares, both quarter horses and thoroughbreds, waited patiently for their foals. Young racehorses took gentle laps around the track in preparation for the new race season. Despite the many possibilities of champions, most of the sense of awe was in the nearly two-year-old colt Glory Be. Glory Be was in training to become a champion because he looked and acted like one. Wil, Capp and Tommy O’Rourke worked with him daily, taking care not to overwork him because he was still developing and growing. With proper training, who knows how successful he could become?

  Capp had more than just training horses and Christmas on his mind, there was the resurgence of Tilly. She was writing letters—angry letters—and calling the Glidewells on the phone. Leon was charged with running interference, often exclaiming, “Mon Dieu, that woman eez difficult.”

  Christmas at Glidewell in 1934 was a memorable event. In addition to having the entire backside team for Christmas dinner, all guest rooms were filled. Among the guests were Theo Tillerman, Rye Fulton, Bob Hench, and many more. Theo Tillerman went from guest to guest asking if they were enjoying their guest quarters. Had they seen the new saddling stall area? He talked about the new barn and outside entertainment area he was designing. Everyone listened politely and assured him that, indeed, his work at Glidewell was remarkable.

  Despite Mary’s resistance, Rye Fulton was busy with his camera taking photos of everyone and everything. Rye convinced James he could pitch a new layout for a magazine. It would be more publicity for the burgeoning horse center. This offer inspired James to invite the photographer for the holiday. The deed was done before Mary could reinsert her worries about Fulton.

  Rye Fulton was focusing this time on the poetry that was Glidewell. He listened as Capp talked about the Osage orange-tree fence that surrounded the property. He was careful to get pictures of the fence in winter and would return in the spring. Rye saw the fence as a barrier from the troubles of the times, a metaphor. Glidewell seemed immune to the hopelessness many felt in the Depression and drought. He wrote down the descriptive phrase “horse high, bull strong and hog tight.” As the hedge trees grew and entwined, the fence had become a living symbol of Glidewell, a symbol of refuge. This was the story he would tell with his photographs. His feelings for Maizie were carefully under wraps for now.

  The grand hall was decked out with tables and chairs for a sit-d
own dinner. Everyone was expected to attend, even the wait and cook staff. Corky and Billie joined Philippe and Leon in the preparations of a Christmas feast of roasted duck, turkey, and ham accompanied with all the fixings. A large Tennessee pine, decorated with red glass bulbs and white lights, stood near the piano. A huge wreath hung above the stone fireplace. The tables were covered with white linen. White candles creating a warm, ambient atmosphere, stood in the center of each table. Ruby, Josie, and Claire helped with the serving but then joined the others at the tables.

  It was a joyful time, full of conversation and laughter. Capp went from table to table shaking hands and playfully kissing all the females lightly on the cheek. When he got to Josie, he stopped. He didn’t kiss her like he did the others, he said, “Forgive me, Josie. I’m sorry for what happened to you.” Josie pushed a few short strands of hair under her red headwrap and looked down at her plate. She said nothing but there was a gentle blushing on her face. Capp found his seat next to Maizie and kissed her on the cheek as well.

  After dinner Meadowlark and Maizie walked slowly, hand in hand, to the grand piano and performed a few songs. Maizie’s college choir training was evidenced by her mastery of more difficult and tighter harmonies. Her stage presence was dynamic, and all listened intently and applauded loudly. They couldn’t help but stare at Maizie and feel the warmth and emotion of her singing, rising and falling with every phrase.

  There was no gift exchange, but the Glidewells surprised everyone with a personal and fitting gift. James gave a champagne toast expressing his gratitude to each and every one of his staff and friends. The speech was warm and caring, but a little long. James mentioned how his employees all worked for the common good. “This,” he said, “makes us different from the rest. We can be proud and hold our heads high.” When he was finished, all raised their glasses. “Hear, hear” rang from the crowd.