Leon entered the dining area with a large dessert tray. It was his specialty, an individual French meringue floating on lemon cream custard, a favorite of the ranch-house live-ins. While the guests at the table enjoyed their dessert, Thelma ate quickly and then she stood to leave. “I have to get back. Billy will be needin’ me.”
“Well, then, I guess we are finished,” said James as he wiped his mouth and placed his linen napkin on the dessert plate. Mary moved to where Thelma was standing. “Thank you for coming, Thelma. I’ll be around the backside checking in on your progress.” Thelma headed out the back door and down the incline to the mess hall.
Mary returned to her office and looked out her window. She could see Thelma walking heavily back down the hill, a frown etched deeply on her chubby face. People full of hate don’t change. Mary knew that all too well. Thelma would be gone soon.
Chapter 30
The Bugle
Corky Wright arrived around 11:00 a.m. on a warm Tuesday afternoon, having hitched a ride from the Springfield train depot. He was let out at the main road and made the mile walk up the shady, long lane. He could view the track, stables, bunkhouses, barns, and paddocks to his right. To his left sat a grand home constructed up an incline that overlooked the track and barns. The house was made of the familiar limestone rock and huge timbers. For a moment he was reminded of the limestone at Fort Riley, but this ranch house was like no house he could have imagined. He decided to walk the road leading down to the backside and see what he could learn about Glidewell Ranch and ask to meet Mr. Glidewell.
When he reached the big barn, he stuck his nose inside and saw several stable hands and a few groomers at work. He’d always loved the smell of a horse barn and the sound of a horse’s greeting. There was one horse in particular that took great interest in Corky. She snorted and whinnied, seeming to call him to her. She was a white filly with a gray mane and tail: a quarter horse of sturdy stature and conformation, with the eyes of a winner—alert, focused, determined. The horse raised and lowered her head, and then she nudged Corky with her nose. Corky, experienced with horses, was careful not to frighten her. He slowly raised his hand to stroke her neck, and so began the love affair between Corky and the three-year-old race filly Devil Doll.
“You need some help?” Wil asked as he walked into the barn. “Looks like Doll has taken a liking to you.”
“I love horses. Was a cavalry man in the army, and a mess-hall cook. My name is Corky. Corky Wright. I’m here to see Mr. Glidewell.” Corky extended his hand.
Wil reached for the offered handshake. “I’m on my way to the ranch house now. Put your things in that bunkhouse and we can walk up together. I’ll introduce you to Mr. Glidewell.”
“Looks like a mighty fine ranch. The track is beautiful. I read about it in the paper. That’s why I called Mr. Glidewell. But really I had no idea.”
“Glidewell Ranch is quite a place. The architect made it beautiful. We put in the horse center first. Doll here is one of our fastest little fillies. Great sprinter.” Suddenly Wil noticed that Corky had a bugle in his left hand, a well-used bugle. “You play that?”
“Everything from Reverie to Taps.”
“You play a bugle for a horse race?”
“You mean ‘Boots and Saddles’?” Corky said with pride. “Darn right, I do. That’s a military call for the cavalry to get ready to go. Some call it the First Call. My proudest moments in the military were playing that tune and getting on my horse.”
Wil smiled and looked into Corky’s bright eyes, “We could use a bugle player for match-race weekend.”
“I’m your man. Sure am liking this mare. Any chance I could ride Doll here?” Corky asked while stroking her muzzle and looking into her eyes.
“She’s a handful. Wants to run,” Wil said. “She’ll take off on you.”
“Sounds like my horse, Patriot, in the cavalry. Handsome, smart, but unpredictable. We got to an understanding, that horse and me. I could control him with a loose rein, soft touch to the flank. He knew all the commands. Whoa, trot, lope, and gallop. He could walk sideways and back up. He and I were like a unit. I could blow my bugle and he wouldn’t flinch. Miss him,” Corky said, his eyes betraying his appreciation for Devil Doll.
“I’ll have my son, Capp, test you on her. See how you do.” That was enough for Corky, a chance. But like his cooking and bugle playing, his riding skills were well practiced. He was a cavalry man, and he had arrived at Glidewell Ranch.
Chapter 31
Maizie’s Diary
July 10, 1931
I was thinking about guardian angels today. I remembered the first guardian angel I ever saw. I was about five. My mama and I were wandering up a river. It had been raining a lot. My mama said, “You know, Maizie, if it gets to raining hard, we might have to get away from this river.” I didn’t know what Mama meant ’cause I was little, and Mama didn’t look scared, so I wasn’t either. That night we camped in a small clearing. I remember the hard rain started in the middle of the night. We stayed put until Mama thought what to do. It was very dark and the river was loud. My mama held me because now I was scared.
In the morning the rain moved on, and the daylight let us look for shelter should it start to rain again. Mama and I picked up our things. We were wet and cold. We had a bite of jerky and a drink from Mama’s canteen. We walked back to the river and could see the water was
