Some here at Glidewell Ranch don’t like me. My job has them thinking I’m special. Never felt special in my life unless it was my mama telling me about my daddy—then I felt real good. But sometimes I remember falling asleep in my mother’s arms, hungry. That was a bad feeling, being hungry.
I’m learning about being an office assistant. Mrs. Glidewell told me my handwriting was just like I said, real pretty. Made me feel better today when she said I was doing good with my filing. I did make a mistake in my new ledger book, only one, but I felt bad. But Mrs. Glidewell said, “There is no shame making a mistake when you are learning something new.” I sure felt better. Never thought I could be so busy doing important things. Mrs. Glidewell said today she’d get me a typewriter and teach me to type. Now that’s something, if you ask me.
I’m not going to worry about Josie. I’m just going to keep learning. I sure don’t want no trouble.
Good night.
Chapter 7
Monday Nights
Every Monday night the Wembleys dined with the Glidewells. James enjoyed the opportunity to relax with Wilson, his manager, and Wilson’s son Capp. Wil, as he was known, ran the stables, made breeding selections, and oversaw the trainers, groomers, and stable hands. He was a quiet type of man, never wasted a word or thought that wasn’t important. His eye contact was long and deep and told everyone he was listening and thinking. Capp was twenty years old, a great rider and lover of horses and, like his dad, he had a penchant and an aptitude for “knowing” horses. They were a handsome duo, this father and son, from Kentucky: the same height, the same body build, broad shouldered and strong.
It was late afternoon when Mary began to put away the paperwork at her desk. “I have been talking with Philippe,” she said to Maizie. “He and Leon need help preparing and serving dinners when we have guests.” Maizie looked up from the letter she was rewriting for Mary in her delicate penmanship.
“It needs to be a person who is eager to learn. And I know just the right person. It’s someone I have come to depend on.”
“Who?” asked Maizie.
“You.”
Maizie lifted her head and turned her gaze to Mary with raised eyebrows. “Me? You want me to help in the kitchen?”
“Only if you want. Philippe and Leon are eager to have you join them on occasion.”
“Mrs. Glidewell, I can’t cook. That’s the truth.”
“I have the utmost confidence in you. Look at all you’ve learned about being my assistant. You can learn to cook too. At least give it a go.”
So it was decided that Maizie would help prepare and serve dinner for the Glidewells and Wembleys.
Down at the backside the dinner bell sounded, and Wil and Capp began their hike up to the ranch house. Showered and dressed in clean Levi’s, laundered shirts and their best cowboy hats, they rang the bells on the front porch.
“Hello Wembleys,” said James as he opened the door. Wil and Capp nodded, tipped their hats, and stepped into the foyer. They reached simultaneously to shake James’s hand and then hung their hats on the hooks provided. “Always look forward to our dinner,” James said.
Wil Wembley had nothing to add. He only nodded. Capp, on the other hand, was quite the talker. “Why Mr. Glidewell, it’s going to be an exciting few weeks comin’ up. We got our foaling mares about to give birth. We should get some fine stock. Dad here says he expects them all to be good performers and he has an idea on how to get horse folks talkin’ about Glidewell Ranch,” said Capp. “Just seems a natural with the economy and all. Things are changing, but Dad here has it all figured out.”
“I’ll be happy to learn all about it. Come in and sit down.” James led them into the reception room, or grand hall, as it was called. “I’ll get you both some whiskey, and we can get to the business of horse talk.”
In one corner of the room, there were four leather and cowhide chairs that Mary had ordered from a craftsman in Kansas City. They were beautifully made, but it had taken two years for the stockyard smell to dissipate from the cured hides. To Mary’s delight, the chairs were now comfortable and welcoming and free of odors. James poured three whiskeys and Will and Capp settled in. James raised his shot glass and said, “I was just thinking today about how far we have come since I bought this land in the county auction. In less than a decade we have ourselves great potential here.”
“I know that to be a fact, James. I think ol’ man Del Henny would be pleased you’re the one who bought his property,” said Wil. James and Capp nodded in agreement.
“If I was a religious man, I might add Del Henny is smiling down on us,” said James.
“Ernesto says sometimes, after a few shots of tequila, he’s seen the old man’s ghost working on the fence,” added Will.
The three laughed at the comment as Maizie walked in with a tray of sliced cheeses, dried fruit and hardtack. Distracted by the laughter, her foot caught under a throw rug and she fell head long, knocking the wind clear out of her. Her tray flew through the air and landed with a thump, hardtack, cheese, and dry fruit landing on the floor. The three men jumped to their feet, drinks in hand. Capp, wishing to help, put down his whiskey and moved to help her. “You hurt, miss?” he said, kneeling on one knee and offering his hand to assist her.
Maizie didn’t answer. She raised up on her elbows and pulled her knees under her. With his help, she eventually stood. Embarrassed, she busied herself brushing food from the front of her dress. Capp smiled
