Hearing his light foot falls, Maizie turned in his direction. He was upon her, only a few feet away.
“Oh Mr. Fulton, you frightened me. May I help you?”
“I’d like a plate of dinner to take to my room.” Rye stood still, his eyes on her.
“I’m sure Corky can fix you up. You can sit at the small table by the window. He’ll be right back.” Rye said nothing, his stance rigid as he stared at Maizie.
“Mr. Fulton, did you hear me?”
“Huh? No. So sorry. It’s just your face, so beautiful. Would you like to take a walk around the property? Get some fresh air? I know I could use some. It’s a beautiful sunset.”
“No sir. I’m not allowed.”
“Not allowed?”
“No sir.”
“I see,” he said. “Here, let me help you.”
Walking to within a few inches of her, he reached and deliberately brushed her breast with his hand. Then pushed her up against the wall, not violently, but purposefully.
“Mr. Fulton, no! Please, let go.”
He leaned in and kissed her on the lips as she attempted to turn her face away. Maizie squirmed as he proceeded to run his hand up her skirt. “Stop it!” she yelled. With all her strength she pushed hard on his chest. She managed to free herself as he stepped back, his breath short. A look of horror was on his face; he looked at his hands as if they were alien to him.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. “I never meant—”
He ran his fingers through his hair and quickly left, nearly running into Corky on his way out.
“What’s going on?” Corky said appearing alarmed.
“Nothing,” Maizie said, her face registering fear as she adjusted her skirts, her heart racing, her breathing coming in stops and starts. With trembling hands, she finished putting the dishes away. Corky looked at her with concern but did not pressure Maizie to explain.
When Maizie returned to the grand hall, she saw Mary sitting on a cowhide chair.
“Maizie, come join me for a cup of tea.”
“I’m tired. I think I’ll call it a night.”
“Oh come, just for a minute. I have news from Louisville.” Reluctantly, Maizie took a seat and waited quietly to hear the news.
“You okay?”
“Yes, just have a lot on my mind.”
“James called. He was so excited. He wants you to help train a yearling. Name it too.”
“And then he’ll sell it. I know that now. I couldn’t go through that again. Tell him no.”
“I’ll do no such thing.”
“I can’t give another pony away. If I name it, it’s got to be mine.”
“That will be a conversation that you can have with James.”
Maizie was getting ready to leave for her room, when Mary said, “I was thinking about your singing. Would you be interested in a voice coach to fill in for Meadowlark until he returns in the fall?”
“I don’t think so.”
“There is a voice teacher at St. Agnus who needs work. I’d like to help him by giving him a job. He isn’t like Meadowlark. He’s been schooled in music.”
“Schooled?” asked Maizie.
“Yes, he was taught how to sing by a teacher. Meadowlark is coaching you well, but this teacher might help you in ways Meadowlark can’t.”
“It’s almost summer. We’re going to be busy with match season and new horses at the backside. There will be so much going on.”
“How about we set up a few lessons? See if you like it.”
“I can’t think about lessons right now. I’m tired. Please.”
“All right. We will talk another time. You go on now. Only sweet dreams.” Maizie nodded, her brow etched with worry.
Corky finished up his work in the kitchen and waited while Maizie said her good-nights to Mary. When Mary was finally left alone, he approached. “Do you need anything else, Mrs. Glidewell?” Mary was deep in thought, and didn’t acknowledge Corky’s presence. “Mrs. Glidewell, may I get anything for you before I head back to the backside?”
“Oh Corky, sorry. No thank you.”
“Well, I’ll be headin’ out then. Good night.”
“Corky, tell me how has Maizie been in the kitchen. Happy? Talkative?”
“Seems she hasn’t been herself since Capp left. We all have noticed that. But tonight I left Maizie alone while I ran to refill supplies. When I returned, Rye was running out the door. When I looked at Maizie, she looked hurt or something.”
“Hurt? What are you saying?”
“Not hurt in a physical way. Just distressed, more distressed than I’ve ever seen her.”
“I see.”
Corky thought about what he had witnessed in the kitchen, but decided he probably was reading too much into what he saw. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Mrs. Glidewell. She is at that emotional age.”
“Yes, she is,” Mary affirmed as she looked thoughtfully across the room. “Corky, before you leave would you go to Rye Fulton and invite him to breakfast at eight a.m.? I’d like to talk with him.”
Chapter 65
Maizie’s Diary
May 2, 1932
Something happened that frightened me. Tonight Rye Fulton touched me. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t. It all felt wrong. I’m still shaking. I hope I don’t see him ever again. He made me feel dirty. The way he looked at me. I remember when I was little, seeing that look in the eyes of the men who Mama did small favors for. Is that what he thought? I would do small favors? I can’t quit thinking about it.
Capp doesn’t make me feel like Mr. Fulton did. I’m sad because he has only written twice since he left. And that girl, Tilly, haunts my thoughts. I think of her when I think of Capp. I think of them together, how maybe they missed each other when he went to Arkansas. Maybe he wrote her letters. I try to remember what she looked like but I can’t. She was pretty, I remember that! This all makes me feel bad and honestly, I feel mad too. I wrote Capp
