“Caroline Freedman, your mama, seemed determined to get to Springfield. Why, I wonder?” said James. “Maizie, I have an idea. You said your father was a singer, a very good singer. He died about sixteen or seventeen years ago. That’s not a long time, and someone with a memorable talent and who was lynched by a mob of white men would not be forgotten by those who appreciated him. I bet you someone in Vicksburg knows your mama’s story.”
“I have a musician friend from Vicksburg. Lives there off and on. We could ask him if he knows the story,” said Meadowlark.
“Maizie dear, do you want to do this?” Mary asked. “Do you want to find out who your mama really was and where she came from and why she left?”
Maizie thought about it for a moment. “I do. But I think I already know why.”
“Why?” James questioned.
Maizie looked down again at the old map and ran her finger up the river as Meadow had done. “I think she had an empty heart and was tryin’ to fill it up.”
The three adults looked at one another as Maizie began to refold the fragile map.
Chapter 57
Out on the Town
After work Tilly made her way to the bunkhouses at Churchill Downs. The evening was chilly, but a nice sunset was in the making. The sky was taking on rose and yellow hues near the horizon. She was thinking about what the evening might hold. There on the steps of Bunkhouse #5, she found Capp waiting for her.
“Hey, Capp!” Running up the porch steps she fell into him, tripping on the last step. Capp held her briefly and then let her go, trying to suppress his laughter.
“What are you laughing at, cowboy?”
“You. You nearly killed yourself in those shoes. They ain’t sensible.”
“Says you. I think they make my legs look shapely. Everyone says so.”
“I guess.” He took a long look at her legs and concluded, “You are right about that.”
“See. Sometimes the risk is worth it. Kind of like racing a thoroughbred along the rail.”
The two walked to the parking area. Tilly slid into the driver’s seat of an old pickup truck with “Parkway Farm” painted on the door, while Capp rode shotgun. Turning the key and putting her foot on the accelerator, Tilly revved the engine and they headed toward downtown Louisville. “You want to go drinkin? I know a bar where we can have a Prohibition special.”
“What’s a Prohibition special?”
“Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, gravy and a real drink.”
“What’s the drink?”
“It is legal, and sure gets you talkin’. It’s whatever juice they have on hand and your own hooch. I got some here in my flask.”
Capp laughed, loving the adventuresome nature of this girl. “Sounds good,” he said, smiling as he reached his hand to her knee. Tilly rewarded him with a smile.
Tilly pulled into a parking lot and turned off the engine. Capp hopped out of the cab and went to open Tilly’s door. She didn’t wait for Capp to assist her, but jumped out quickly, straightened her skirt and pointed the way. “You know, Capp, now that you are here, I think I should spend some time with you in the barns at Churchill Downs. Teach you some things about racing.”
“Bob Hench is going to work with me. We talked about it at lunch today.” Tilly made no comment as they approached the door to The Lucky Shoe. Once inside, she said, “Don’t you forget that I know about horses and racing. You’d do well to hang with me. Bet I know stuff Bob doesn’t and—” she hesitated before she said, “And I’m more fun.”
Although the place was busy, they were able to get a table for two. The room was well lit. Hardly a place to find romance, but that was not her goal. Tilly ordered two Prohibition specials. “Look Capp. Just about everyone is having a drink. I think it’s funny how people drink more now than they did before alcohol was made illegal.”
Capp nodded. “That’s true. Guys at Glidewell are always nippin’ on a flask. Seems most folks and businesses have found a way around the prohibition.”
“Seems most look the other way. You drink a lot, Capp?”
“Mostly to be polite.”
“Oh God, you’re too perfect. I love to drink. Makes me feel happy.”
“That’s true. But that happy feeling don’t last forever. You ever notice that?”
“Don’t stop drinking. That’s what I do.” Tilly laughed as the drinks were set on the table.
Capp and Tilly spent the evening talking about horses and farms and her dream of breeding and racing Derby winners. “You could become known for raisin’ and trainin’ fine thoroughbreds,” she said, and Capp listened.
They enjoyed their meal, laughed a lot, reached for each other’s hands, and seemed to relish their reacquaintance.
After dinner, Tilly suggested that they go for a walk around town to sober up before driving back to Churchill Downs. Capp put his arm around her to keep her warm and to steady her. “Thank you, cowboy.” Tilly stopped, stood on her toes and kissed him.
An hour later, they were back at Churchill Downs in the unlit manager’s office. Tilly led Capp into her father’s office using a flashlight from the desk.
“What are we doing here?” Capp asked.
“This is where we will start your education, Capp.” Tilly leaned into him and gently pushed him against the office wall. “I have something I want to teach you,” she whispered.
Capp kissed her, showing he would be a very eager pupil.
Chapter 58
A Telling Tour
Louisville, Kentucky
Capp’s move to Churchill Downs was bearing fruit. He’d enjoyed the last few weeks working with the team in Bob Hench’s barn and was growing more confident about thoroughbreds. Spending time with Tilly was an added bonus. Most of the time it was a drink followed by a tryst in an alley, the backseat of
