Wil smiled as he placed his glass on the table where his boots had been a second before. Capp stood and started towards the kitchen, then turned back to James. “Excuse me, Mr. Glidewell, would it be all right for me to take Maizie for a trail ride? We got a horse that’s real gentle. I’d like to show her the property, tell her about the quarry and the Osage orange-tree fence and ol’ Buckus Del Henny. Tell her about the building of Glidewell Ranch.”
James smiled, reached for Capp’s shoulder, and looked him straight in the eyes. “Sounds good to me, Capp, but you’ll have to ask Mary. I’ll warn you she is quite protective of her office assistant.”
Chapter 8
Maizie’s Diary
May 15, 1931
Never knew there could be so many rules about fancy food serving, like which side you stand on when serving and picking up a plate. Mrs. Glidewell wants things just so and I get nervous. Every time I do something right, Leon and Philippe compliment me. In French. “Bon travail, mon cher,” they say. Makes me feel better because I know it means “good work, my dear.” Leon told me so.
But Monday night at dinner, when the Wembleys were here, I fell with a tray. I wanted to cry, but everyone was so nice I ended up being just real embarrassed. Philippe and Leon say I’m doing fine, but I worry I’m not good enough. Seems they could get someone a lot better than me. I won’t quit tryin’ because I have nowhere to go, but making mistakes worries me.
Tonight Capp came into the kitchen. He asked me to come on a horse ride. He seems nice. I like his smile. It starts out barely there, and then it grows, broad and wide, like he’s thinking of something real nice. He always lowers his eyes and shakes his head. Maybe he’s shy. I know about that, ’cause I sure am. Capp says Mrs. Glidewell approves and Friday morning we’ll go horseback riding. Never been on a horse in my life. Hope I don’t embarrass myself.
Mrs. Glidewell had me move into my own room in the ranch house. I wasn’t sure I should because the others didn’t get asked. But she said I had to. I am too young to stay in a bunkhouse, she said. The room is real nice. The quilt on the bed is blue and yellow. I have my own chest of drawers and a hanging closet. I’ve never had it so good. When I was packing my few things in the bunkhouse, Josie said she never liked having a colored sleeping next to her anyways. Funny how some folks are like that. But what she says doesn’t bother me. Well, a little because I sure don’t want trouble. Mr. and Mrs. Glidewell don’t seem to care about me being colored. Maybe they don’t know? They say they love having me in the ranch house. But what if they don’t know my daddy was colored?
I still haven’t looked through my mother’s things.
Good night,
Maizie Sunday Freedman
Chapter 9
The Trail Ride
Maizie looked into her mirror. The brown riding pants and blue-and-pink floral-print shirt that Mary had loaned her were loose fitting but comfortable. She smiled briefly and pulled her hair back into a ponytail securing it with a rubber band. Picking up Mary’s cowboy hat off her bed, she brushed a piece of lint from its brim and placed it on her head. Looking again into the mirror, she was caught off guard by her reflection, a girl she hardly recognized. She realized for the first time that Glidewell was changing her in ways she could have never imagined. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she struggled into the riding boots following a mild tug of war with the bootstraps. Walking down the hall stiffly, because she’d never worn such boots before, she could hear Capp’s voice. She smiled to herself and found Capp and James sitting by the fire in the great hall. Capp jumped up and said, “Let’s get going. Breezy is ready for you.”
“Breezy?”
“Yep Breezy, the mare. She’s waitin’.” Capp smiled, took her hand, and pulled her to the door.
Capp and Maizie headed out to the saddling paddock near the racetrack. There were many stable hands, grooms, and trainers walking in and out of the barn, some leading a horse in, others, a horse out. All the hands were decked out in western gear, well worn, and mostly clean. Some waved at Capp, others tipped their hat to Maizie as they moved through their routines.
Breezy, a beautiful bay filly, and Running Wild, a cream-colored stallion with chestnut mane and forelegs, were both saddled and ready to go.
“Ready to climb on board Breezy here?” Capp asked. “She’s the sweetest mare. She likes a trail ride, slow and easy, but can go fast if you want. She won’t try to knock you off or anything like that.”
“Knock me off?”
“Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry? I’ve never been on a horse before. I’m worried, all right!”
“Well, Breezy won’t take that out on you.” Capp smiled. “I’d trust her with a four-year-old child. She’s that sweet. Running Wild here is another story. But he likes Breezy and will behave to impress her. He may show off a bit though, but I’m ready for him. Horses are like that. They know if you got horse smarts or not. You can read a good horse by the eyes.”
Maizie looked up at Breezy. The mare blinked, her soft brown eyes warm and engaging. “Want to see Running Wild and I do a turn around the track?” asked Capp. “I’ll get some of the devil out of him, before we get started on the trail ride.”
“Be better if he’d be an angel,” said Maizie. Capp laughed and quickly mounted the horse
