On the third start, they were off.
Cherokee Sunrise balked a bit but the jockey, finding his balance, urged him on. The thoroughbreds were running fast, nearing the first turn. Cherokee Sunrise was next to last but gaining. As the leaders went into the turn, Cherokee Sunrise passed two more horses at the back of the pack. Rounding the first turn, the jockey held Cherokee firm, apparently comfortable staying back. Entering into the backstretch, the jockey let Cherokee run and made a move around the pack. He passed the pack, and now, in an effort to catch the two horses in the lead, the horse stretched, put his head down, and improved his speed. Gaining distance in every stride, the jockey rose up on his stirrups, rump in the air, and leaned over the horse’s neck, using his crop to gain speed for the finish. James was pounding his hand on the rail, yelling at the top of his lungs.
As the horses approached the finish line, it looked as though the Glidewell thoroughbred would take the lead. Running hard, he and another horse crossed the finish line together. It looked like it was anyone’s guess who won. “Could be a tie,” said Bob.
“Cherokee needs some start training. I can help with that,” said Capp, looking at James for reassurance.
James raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Yes, you can.” He slapped Capp on his back. After a minute or two the announcer said, “Cherokee Sunrise won by a nose.” Capp, Wil, Bob, and James were amazed. The horse that seemed so poorly trained had proven he knew how to run. Despite his less-than-perfect start, he’d maneuvered his way around the field. Bob had made a sound choice, and James realized that a Glidewell thoroughbred had just won a race. It was beyond comprehension. And he hoped there would be many more.
Chapter 64
An Encounter
The sun positioned itself on the horizon for its predictable fall off the edge of the world, the sky aflame with color. Corky and Maizie were busy finishing their kitchen chores. As usual they bantered about life around the ranch. Maizie felt a closeness to Corky from working with him during Phillipe and Leon’s absence. There was a warmth and goodness about Corky.
“I saw Jeb. He’s in a lot of pain,” said Maizie, her eyes filled with sympathy.
“That’s what I hear,” agreed Corky. “Good horse trainer, Jeb. You have to admire him. Seems he is mighty alone right now.” Maizie nodded, thinking about her mother and how alone she had been.
“I know you are right, Corky. Jeb and I talk now and again. He cares about me, I can tell. He taught me all I know about foals. I am still sad about losing Jonny’s Bay Run. I named him. Mrs. Glidewell says I’ll get over it, but so far I haven’t.”
“Takes a long time. In the army I had a horse named Patriot. When I retired I hated leaving that horse. He and I were a team. But that stallion was a government issue; a gall darn G.I. I had no rights to him. Broke my heart. I was sad until I met Doll, then it all changed.”
Maizie slowly turned toward Corky and smiled. She understood about Corky’s loss, but so far she had nothing to take away the pain of losing her colt. “I know how you felt, Corky.”
The two continued to work, their after-dinner routine efficient and well-practiced. Maizie picked up a mop and began one of the last chores of the evening, cleaning the kitchen floor. As she pushed the mop forward and back, she suddenly stopped and said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“You go to college?”
“Hell no. Had no time for it. Went straight into the army when I was eighteen. Best thing I ever did. Got me away from home. I learned a lot about the world in the army.”
“Mrs. Glidewell wants me to go to college, but I am not sure. Seems I don’t really need to.”
Corky put down his dish rag and turned toward Maizie. “You know, Maizie, I can’t give you advice, but I can tell you what I see. I see that you are a chosen one around here, a person who has a whole lot of support. You have a good job and a position of privilege in this house. And I am not the only one who sees it. I guess I have to ask myself this: “Why wouldn’t you go to college? You have every opportunity. Turning it down might displease the Glidewells. Why would you want to hurt them? They’re just tryin’ to help you.”
Maizie said nothing in return, although she had listened to every word Corky said.
“I have to stock the baking cupboard and food pantry. Be back in fifteen,” said Corky. Maizie nodded, put away the mop, and walked to the butler’s pantry, picking up a stack of clean plates on the way.
Rye Fulton had spent the evening with his camera, catching descriptive moments of the staff while they readied the horses in their stalls and then enjoyed their dinners in the mess hall. As a result, he’d forgotten to eat. His photography work always trumped his need for food. Deciding he’d better get something to tide him over until breakfast, he walked to the ranch house kitchen. Opening the back door, he looked around for Corky. He was surprised to see only Maizie still at work, putting dishes away. He watched for a moment from the door as she stacked dishes on the shelves. He stole across the floor, drawn to her like a bee to a flower. He thought of poetry about beauty, love, broken dreams, tragedy, and a man’s unrequited, secret love quest. He was always a sucker for the sublime,
