“No, Sugar, had two sisters older than me. I’ve seen a woman before.”
The tub safely supported Josie and Sugar could give her a decent sponge bath before putting her in the clean bed. “Poor thing is so thin. My clothes will be bigger than she needs but will have to do.” Sugar draped a towel over the tub concealing Josie’s nakedness from Leon and then ran to look for some suitable clothes. When she returned with two nightgowns, a head wrap, an old cardigan, and clean socks, she dismissed Leon. “Please fill this bucket with warm water from the laundry room. Then the rest is my work, Leon.”
When Leon returned with the bucket of water, Sugar was holding Josie’s hand and telling her that everything would be better soon. “You may go now, Leon.”
“May I tell Philippe?”
“Yes, and when Mrs. Glidewell returns, bring her straight to the cabin. Tell her there is a problem.”
“Merci, Sugar.”
Sugar just laughed. “Never thought I’d get in trouble with a Frenchman.” Leon was happy to hear Sugar’s comment. The “trouble” to which she referred was the right thing for them to do.
Sugar scrubbed Josie clean and got her into the bed. The many chores she ignored this day were all for a good cause. She’d get it all done, just work harder tomorrow. When the infirm young woman finally laid back on the pillow and was neatly tucked in, Sugar took one of her white head cloths and expertly wrapped Josie’s head in a turban, like her own. “Now you look beautiful and proud like Sugar here,” Sugar whispered. Josie nodded and closed her eyes. In reality Josie looked sick, weak, and tired, but at least she was clean. Her healing could begin.
Chapter 78
The Fifty-Eighth Running
of the Roses
May 7, 1932
Despite the gray sky, nothing could dampen the spirits of the crowd waiting excitedly to see the “running of the roses.” Betters weighed all the factors: track condition, post position, each horse’s track record. Bookies made their best, fact-based guesses. Track regulars hung around the betting windows picking up tips, carefully plotting their betting moves. The seasoned gamblers most often placed bets on the basis of good information rather than intuition. For some a trip to the racetrack was a job; for others, it was an outing, a fiesta, a sporting event, and a chance to get lucky.
As the races continued, many spectators hung around the saddling paddocks attempting to get a glimpse of each horse and rider. Others wandered the venue, drinking nonalcoholic mint juleps in frosted silver mugs. Some spiked their drinks with medicinal spirits contained in their pocket flasks. They grumbled that they liked their juleps better before Prohibition; medicinal whiskey did not have the nuanced flavor of a good Kentucky bourbon. Some remained in the stands studying their programs while drinking their juleps, spiked or not.
Tilly was growing bored and had no interest in betting, drinking, or reading a program. Her attention was focused on the seats below her where Capp sat with what Tilly knew was the Glidewell entourage. Capp was so engaged with Maizie that he was talking nonstop, pointing to the track as horses and riders were paraded by the grandstands. Tilly longed to be in the seat next to Capp. She would remind him of the farm and her dreams of having several entries in the Kentucky Derby. Maybe he’d begin to see what an opportunity she was presenting to him. She’d talk about Glidewell owning her farm and she and Capp could run it. He’d listen this time. If only she was sitting there with him, she knew he would warm to her; she knew he’d see the potential of her offer. She worried that this day was lost to that endeavor. There wasn’t enough time. She had to have a new plan. She put the field glasses to her eyes and saw Capp’s every move.
Tilly watched as Capp and Maizie left their seats. She lost sight of them as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She stood abruptly and told her parents she had to use the ladies’ room and would be back shortly. Tilly scrambled down the steps in her high heels. Reaching the bottom she decided to turn toward the restrooms. Entering the ladies’ room, she went to the sink to wash her hands, all the while looking in the mirror at the women entering and leaving. No one looking like Maizie came in. She dried her hands quickly on a towel handed to her by the attendant. Walking back in the direction in which she had come, she decided to move to the front of the stands. There were many people standing abreast trying to get a look at the activity on the track. Tilly pushed her way through the crowd, but it was hopeless. She couldn’t see above all the folks gathered, and having no idea where Capp and his friend could have gone, she retreated back to the grandstand. She fought her way along, stepped awkwardly on one of her heels, and broke it. Embarrassed, angry tears pooled in her eyes as she limped to her seat.
Chapter 79
Around the Grounds
When Maizie and Capp arrived at the saddling paddock, he, acting the docent, began his lecture. He pointed out the various horses and jockeys in their colorful silks. “There, Maizie, is Burgoo King, Colonel Bradley’s horse, and his jockey with the white silks with those green hoops and green hat. And over there is another one. That’s Brother Joe, a real Bradley contender.”
Maizie watched the jockey handling Burgoo King. She noticed his grace and confidence. Turning to Capp she asked, “Do you think Tommy could teach me to race, Capp?”
Capp laughed. “Takes a lot of leg and back strength. You got to teach the horse you’re the boss.”
“You don’t think I can do it?”
“A girl like you can do just about
