My mama’s things are still in that bag. I can’t look at them. I was thinking about all the stories my mama told me about a little girl who could fly and get out of trouble. When I’m around Capp, I feel like I could fly. When I’m around Capp, I’m not afraid.
Bonne nuit, mon ami,
Maizie Sunday Freedman
Chapter 13
The Horse Auction
Wil Wembley knew quarter horses but did not know a lot about thoroughbreds. It was time to learn. Will decided to attend a thoroughbred auction in Lebanon, two hours from Glidewell. He and Capp left before daybreak the next day and Capp entertained with nonstop chatter expressing his enthusiasm about thoroughbreds. Pulling into the parking area of the horse farm, Wil was happy to see horse trailers everywhere. People in cowboy hats and fedoras were walking toward an indoor arena. Jumping from the cab of their truck, they headed into the auction, eventually taking seats in the grandstand. Each horse on the block was described by the auctioneer, who mentioned the current owner’s name and the thoroughbred’s pedigree. He was careful to describe the horse’s physical attributes: deep chest, lean body, and long, flat muscles. He described the bone structure as fine or medium, the haunches as powerful. Wil made mental notes.
“These thoroughbreds are sure leaner than our quarter horses,” Capp said.
“And leggier, Son. Where our quarter horses love to sprint, these thoroughbreds like the longer races. They are hot and excitable. Just look at them.”
Just then a young, attractive woman took a seat next to Capp. Capp turned to look and tipped his head as if to say hello. She returned the gesture with a smile and began to rummage through her purse.
“Hey, like some gum? I have some in here somewhere,” she said as she dug deeper.
“Maybe. Don’t like Black Jack gum.”
“Wrigley’s. I always have a pack of Wrigley’s. Oh, here it is.” Capp reached to take the gum but she was too fast. She pulled off the covering and pushed the gum into Capp’s mouth and then laughed.
Leaning across Capp’s lap toward Wil she extended her pack of gum and asked, “You like some?” Wil shook his head no and went back to his observations.
The young woman leaned into Capp and whispered, “Is that guy with you?”
“Yup. That’s my dad.”
“He don’t talk?”
“Not much.”
“Guess he looks like you.”
Capp went back to watching the auction.
“You buying a horse today?” she asked.
“Nope. Not today.”
“You may miss a good deal. A lot of these horse breeders need the money.” She took the gum from her mouth and placed it under her bleacher seat. Pulling a compact from her leather purse, she opened it and carefully began to study her face. She checked her mouth and cheeks and pushed her loose, dark brown hair back under her hat. She then pulled a tube of lipstick from her bag and began to apply the red color to her relaxed lips. Looking askance at Capp, she began rubbing her lips together to evenly distribute the lipstick.
Capp was focused on the auction. Seemingly disappointed that he was paying her no mind, she put the tube and compact back in her purse. She deftly unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt, then looked quickly down at her cleavage. Crossing her legs, she leaned forward, brushing Capp’s thigh with her hand. “Sorry,” she said. Capp ignored her, continued chewing his gum and kept his eyes on the pretty chestnut filly on the auction block.
“Hey, you want to get a cool drink with me? I’ll buy,” she said. Wil overheard and with a nod and a few flicks of his hand indicated Capp was free to go.
“Bring me back something to drink.” Wil reached in his pocket, pulled out a few coins and handed them to Capp.
Capp followed the woman down the bleachers and out the door to a refreshment stand by the entrance. She asked for two Cokes, paid the attendant two nickels and handed Capp a cold Coke. She sipped daintily while Capp took several large gulps. Covering his mouth with his hand he belched quietly.
“Guess I was thirsty.”
“So, what’s your name, cowboy?”
“Capp.”
“I like it. Capp. Cowboy Capp. I’m Matilda from Kentucky. My daddy is looking to buy a couple of yearlings. We raise thoroughbreds.”
“Why you come here? Seems Kentucky is where you’d want to buy.”
“Looking for new blood. And besides, my brother lives near here,” she said. “My parents and I come when we get to missing him. But the truth is, prices on thoroughbreds are better here.”
“My dad and I are just here to learn. Our ranch is a ways from here.” He took another long swig of coke. Holding the bottle around its neck, he looked around the grounds. “Nice farm.”
“Sure is,” she said. Changing the subject, she began a long story about her parents, their horse farm near Louisville, and her love of the nightlife around town. “Louisville is an exciting place. Missouri doesn’t have anything much that I can see. But I know how to have a good time.”
Capp finished his Coke. “Look, I’ve got to get back.”
“So, you got a ranch? You rich?” she asked.
He laughed. “Nope. We manage a big quarter-horse ranch here in Missouri.”
“That so. Then why you here? These are racehorses, thoroughbreds.”
“We are thinking about raising a few. My dad has a hankering.”
“So where is your ranch?”
“North of Springfield. Glidewell Ranch. Biggest horse ranch this side of Texas.”
“Glidewell? Easy to remember. That’s what you want your racehorse to do in the backstretch, glide well.”
Capp just smiled and adjusted his Stetson. “Really gotta run. Dad’s waitin’ for his Coke.”
“Oh, I was hoping we could walk. Look at some horses. I could teach you some things.”
“Got to get back to the auction. This ain’t a holiday for us. We’re workin’.”
“Maybe later we can ride into town?
