Bob looked at the group of men more carefully and saw two of his own grooms standing sheepishly behind the others. “My guys need to get back to work. There is too much to do around here to be standin’ around laughin’ with Tilly and chewing gum.”
Bob’s men, hands in pockets, heads down, quickly moved away. Taking the lead of Bob Hench’s men, the others pivoted and headed back toward the track too.
“Tilly, I don’t want you hanging around my barn or my boys. Other trainers wouldn’t like it any more than me. You hearin’ me? We got a lot of work to do, and they don’t need any distractions. They are on the dock day and night ’til the Derby is over.”
“Are you sayin’ I’m not allowed here?” asked Tilly as she finger combed a strand of her wavy bleached-blond hair.
“That’s what I’m sayin’,” confirmed Bob.
Tilly looked around slowly and then smirked and asked, “You ever talk with that kid who worked for you a few years back? The one who came from some fancy horse ranch in Missouri.”
“Capp Wembley?”
“Yeh, Capp was his name. He still workin’ with horses?”
“They are workin’ with horses. They have some nice thoroughbred stock.”
“Sounds like they are doin’ well.”
“I reckon. Tilly, I got to get back to my work.”
“Sure Bob, go on. Don’t worry. I don’t have time for wranglers, trainers, riders, or stable hands anymore. Learned my lesson. I’m lookin’ for a man with money.”
“Well, in this economy, good luck.”
“Oh, there’s plenty with money around here. You know that, Bob,” corrected Tilly.
“If you say so.” Bob tipped his hat, and left Tilly standing alone.
Walking back to her car, Tilly suddenly changed directions and headed to her old office. She found Marion Milsap, her replacement, sitting at her old desk. Marion looked up from her work, saw Tilly, and said, “Your father isn’t here. He’s gone to inspect the barns.”
“I didn’t come to see Daddy. I wonder if I could look through my old desk drawers. I worry that I left a few things.”
“I cleaned out all the drawers when I took the position a year ago. I put things I thought were yours in that box under the counter. I was just about to give it a heave-ho. I asked your father to take it, but he said I should just throw it out. I kept it because I thought something might be important.”
“Thoughtful of you, Marion.”
Tilly bent down and picked up the cardboard box. Quickly rummaging through it, she found a pair of high heels, a tube of lipstick, a hairbrush, a few ribbons, a coffee cup, two old ledgers, a half-used pack of Wrigley’s, and an address book with a few phone numbers. Realizing all would be lost if she didn’t find someone to help her keep the farm, a tinge of anger bubbled as the memory of Capp brought up old feelings of need, desire, and rejection. She thumbed through the address book and found the Glidewell Ranch’s phone number and P.O. Box. Smiling, she closed the book, picked up the box and carried it to her car.
Chapter 93
Maizie’s Diary
April 25, 1934
Meadowlark, Sugar, and I just got back from Vicksburg, the place I was born. When we got to the depot, Capp drove the Packard to meet us. He was there before I could climb down the steps from the train. He picked me up and hugged me so tight, I almost couldn’t breathe. I think Sugar and Meadowlark were surprised. He put his head on my shoulder and kept sayin’ that he missed me so much. I hugged him back and told him I had much to tell him. He lifted his head and smiled so broadly I thought his lips might crack. It was good to be home.
I told Mary I’d decided to go to college. Capp encouraged me, said I should give it a try. Mary said Capp was being wise. That is one of the nicest things Mary has said about Capp in a long time. Mary says that James will contact people he knows and he is certain he can get me in.
My trip to Vicksburg helped me understand some things. Seems that my mama was a Del Henny, just like Buckus. Truth is if my mama was a Del Henny that would be true for me too. I told Mary and James. They were stunned. I don’t know if they believed the story, but James said, “Well, that settles it, Mazie. You do belong here.”
Bonne nuit mon ami,
Maizie Sunday Freedman
Chapter 94
Admissions Office
Late April 1934
James and Mary escorted Maizie to Drury College in Springfield. They met with the admissions officer, a middle-aged woman with an officious air. She said it was very rare to admit someone who hadn’t attended high school, but there was precedence. “How could a student possibly be prepared?” she questioned out loud. “But there are few women in attendance right now. Families are sending their sons, not daughters. We would like a few more women. Keeps the men in line.”
James asked if she had read the letter of recommendation from Maizie’s tutor which not only described her competence and eagerness with studies, but also the rigorous academic tests she passed under the professor’s tutelage. “If that doesn’t suffice, may I suggest Maizie be given a test to determine if she is academically ready?”
The admissions officer straightened a few papers on her desk and remained unresponsive. James, in a gesture of frustration, slid a typed document with signatures toward her. It was a grant scholarship in the Glidewell name to be used for students like Maizie. “This is a promissory agreement that states should you grant Maizie the privilege of an education, I will be offering a scholarship to one other student this year.” James went on to explain that Maizie was an orphan with no close kin, and that James and Mary were her legal
