“That’s a lot of money. Seems you think you have all the bargaining chips here. Seems you may be taking advantage of us and not understanding why a young girl should preserve her anonymity. Your interest in this photograph is a bit concerning to me.”
“I wouldn’t use her name, if that’s what you are worried about.”
“That is what I worry about. That and in what kind of ad she might appear. And the men who may privately lust after her.”
“Lust?”
“Yes, Mr. Fulton, lust.” Mary wrinkled her brow but continued to gaze at Rye Fulton. “Mr. Fulton, I see no reason for us to continue this discussion. I will talk about this matter with my husband.”
“You are not accusing me of an impropriety, are you?”
“I am.”
“I hardly think that warranted. I am an artist. My work is my life. It is the picture not Maizie that engages me. That’s what good art does, engages. I understand you want the negative, but wouldn’t a print satisfy?” questioned Rye.
“Then you have lone access to the photo’s use? I am not certain I trust that would be in Maizie’s best interest. You took this photo with our permission on our property. I‘m unclear what our rights are. We will consider your asking price to be the opening of our negotiations. When my husband returns, I will have him contact you or your attorney.”
“I don’t have an attorney. Can’t afford it. The negative is mine. Pure and simple. I can retain the right to sell the image as often as I want. Your problem is you don’t understand an artist’s feelings about the work.”
“You may be right. Now let us get back to selecting from these beautiful photos. In the future, I would ask that you not photograph Maizie.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Fulton, let me be clear. Maizie is off limits to you. I don’t want you around her.”
Mary looked at Rye suspiciously as he turned away. She took back the proofs and looked through them one more time, making sure she hadn’t missed any that told the Glidewell Ranch story. Her concern about Maizie was warranted. She knew that now.
Chapter 68
Maizie’s Diary
May 4, 1932
Mr. Fulton was with Mary this morning. I want to avoid him but Corky said I had to have breakfast with Mary and he was sitting there. I sure do feel uncomfortable around him. I can’t bring myself to tell Mary or anyone how he touched me. Some things are better left unsaid. The Glidewells may think I am like Josie and fire me. I still worry about that.
Mary was upset about a picture of me. It was just a picture. I don’t think it looked like me anyways. I would have told her it doesn’t matter to me what happens to the photo, but Mary was worried about it, so I stayed quiet. She sent me out of the room after a bit. I was sure glad about that.
I have to admit, I loved looking at the pictures Mr. Fulton had taken. When you look at the pictures, you understand what a great place Glidewell is. A girl like me living here has me forgetting about the world I came from. I wonder if that is a good thing.
The pictures of Capp made me remember how nice his face is—his smile makes my heart sing. I wonder if Tilly’s smile makes Capp’s heart sing. I hurt when I think on it. Sometimes I can’t sleep wondering about it, but tonight I drank some of Ol’ Jon’s tea. That always helps.
Bonne nuit, mon ami,
Maizie Sunday Freedman
Chapter 69
Idle Hour Farm
The Glidewell team was on their way to Lexington to purchase more horses. The early-morning sky, heavy with rain, did not dampen anyone’s spirit. Wil and James were quiet as Capp talked incessantly about the horses they had claimed the day before. It was obvious that Capp only had one thing on his mind: horses. Occasionally a cloudburst would slow them down, but even with that, Hank made good time on their three-hour drive from Louisville, arriving at the Idle Hour Farm nearly on time. They were greeted by a trainer, breeder, and a manager who was authorized to make sales.
“Mr. Blevens?” asked Wil.
The tallest man answered, “That’s me. Call me Richmond. This is Dale and Clyde. We call them the Clydesdales. Just a silly thing, but they’ll answer.” Clyde and Dale laughed while flicking their cigarette butts into a bucket of sand. Wil shook hands with all three men and liked the feel of their grip, firm and welcoming.
“We got two thoroughbred stallions expected to run the Kentucky Derby,” said Richmond. “Beautiful horseflesh, primed and ready. The horses just left yesterday in a trailer on their way to Churchill Downs,” said Clyde.
James felt a surge of envy, but the feeling was far surpassed by how impressed he was that this farm qualified two horses to run in the Kentucky Derby. “What are their names? We’ll be there to cheer them on,” said Capp.
“We got Brother Joe and Burgoo King running. Wouldn’t miss it for anything,” said Richmond.
“I’m anxious to see your stock that’s for sale. Could we get to it? Got another farm to go to today,” said Capp.
“Show us what you got. We are looking for breed stock with good pedigrees, good conformation, sound lower legs, and a winning spirit,” said Wil.
“You just described our entire stock, but I’ll show you the horses that are for sale,” said Blevens.
In the paddock were two mares, each a bay with a white blaze, black mane, and four black socks. Both were five years old and had produced fine foals. Dale explained the mares were half-sisters sired by the same stallion. Pedigrees were strong and the stallion was a stakes winner. Capp asked that the mares be brought to him so he could assess their soundness.
Wil turned to James, “I like these two mares. They are proven breeders
