Mendacious Lies

By PG Simmons

Ben Claybourne grew up dreaming of one day breeding and racing his own thoroughbreds. On his twenty-first birthday, he struck out to prove his own merit. During the first race of the 1886 season, he met his soul mate, he was betrayed by a friend, and he discovered his colt had been compromised. Discovering the possibility that he had been duped and used by a con man, Ben took it upon himself to surreptitiously investigate. By the end of the racing season, two deaths, five races lost, and a tragic engagement shattered his world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984522474

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Copyright © 2018 by PG Simmons.

Photography: Pat Simmons

Illustration: Pat Simmons

Library of Congress Control Number:                           2018904709

                ISBN:                  Hardcover                  978-1-9845-2249-8

                                            Softcover                    978-1-9845-2248-1

                                            eBook                          978-1-9845-2247-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Rev. date: 04/24/2018

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This book is dedicated to my son

Scott Simmons

Contents

Prologue      August 31, 1886 – Charleston, SC

Chapter 1     The Red Hellion – Mobile, Alabama

Chapter 2     The Childhood Friend – Mobile, Alabama

Chapter 3     The Jewel – Charleston, SC

Chapter 4     The Frenchman – Charleston, SC

Chapter 5     The Four Horsemen – Charleston, SC

Chapter 6     The Coquette – Rock Hill, SC

Chapter 7     Oak Ridge Farms – Mobile, Alabama

Chapter 8     Race Week – Charleston, SC

Chapter 9     Jockey Club Dinner – Charleston, SC

Chapter 10   Opening Day – Charleston, SC

Chapter 11   The Alstons’ Dinner Party – Charleston, SC

Chapter 12   Mobile Bay’s Day – Charleston, SC

Chapter 13   The Big Race – Charleston, SC

Chapter 14   The Challenge – Charleston, SC

Chapter 15   The Rival – Charleston, SC

Chapter 16   The Date – Charleston, SC

Chapter 17   The Gibb’s Social – Charleston, SC

Chapter 18   The Confrontation – Charleston, SC

Chapter 19   The Chamber’s Home – Charleston, SC

Chapter 20   Pride’s Debut – Charleston, SC

Chapter 21   The Firing – Charleston, SC

Chapter 22   End of Race Week – Charleston, SC

Chapter 23   The Jockey Club Dance – Charleston, SC

Chapter 24   Home Again – Mobile, Alabama

Chapter 25   Derby Week – Louisville, KY

Chapter 26   The Culbertson Residence – Louisville, KY

Chapter 27   Pride’s Race – Louisville, KY

Chapter 28   The Face Off – Louisville, KY

Chapter 29   The Colt’s Big Race – Louisville, KY

Chapter 30   The Celebration – Louisville, KY

Chapter 31   The Discussions – Louisville, KY

Chapter 32   Preakness and Belmont – Maryland & NY

Chapter 33   Suburban Stakes – Sheepshead Bay, NY

Chapter 34   Home at Oak Ridge – Mobile, Alabama

Chapter 35   A Friendship Ends – Charleston, SC

Chapter 36   The Visit – Charleston, SC

Chapter 37   Season Ends – Saratoga Springs, NY

Chapter 38   The Earthquake – Charleston, SC

Chapter 39   The Recognition – Charleston, SC

Epilogue       Ten Years Later – North Charleston, SC

Prologue

August 31, 1886 – Charleston, SC

I t had been a beautiful warm August day and the long, deep, twilight of evening was just settling over the city of Charleston, South Carolina. It was the type of weather that brought people outside to sit on their porches in order to enjoy the late evening breezes that blew in off the Atlantic Ocean.

Daniel Raymond Gibbs sat hunched over the account books, which were spread out on the teal antique desk. He had unconsciously been listening for the final notes of the last of the summer concerts being held in White point Park across the way. He knew that his daughter and her beau might be wandering back anytime—now that the music was coming to an end.

Rubbing his forehead, Daniel let out a reluctant sigh as he glanced down at the gun lying on the desktop. Now, he had a serious decision to make!

He had gone over the figures for the umpteenth time knowing that there was nothing he could do to change the final totals. Dreading that he would soon have no choice but to face his daughter and confess that he had been lying or take the coward’s way out. He had been so sure that he’d be able to replace the lost funds before she had the chance to discover that they were once again completely broke.

Because of the last investment in his pursuit of quick money, he had been forced to take some last drastic measures. He sat lamenting his past judgments and stupid mistakes. He knew that he had not only drained their savings, but had also foolishly borrowed money on everything that they had control over—even the roof over their head which they had an option to purchase. Now he had nowhere to turn.

How he would exactly crawl out of this hole he had dug—he did not know. He had placed himself between a rock and a hard place, and there was no help from his relatives or anyone else on the horizon.

Everything that his daughter had worked so hard to obtain was beginning to crumble around them. Although he knew that it was his fault—and his fault only, he still believed deep down that there had to be a way out. Surely, God wouldn’t punish someone so innocent and sweet as his Jewel!

As he quietly sat bemoaning the misery that he had brought down on them, his mind flashed back to when his dear beloved wife had passed away. That had been a traumatic time for him—so much so he just wanted to die himself.

It took him a long time to realize how much it was affecting his daughter and that he really did have something to live for! He had spiraled toward the bottom of the barrel managing to lose everything of value all because of his gambling obsession and his great depression.

Jewel had been remarkable and at such a young age. She had taken over the running of the household, trying to keep him grounded and all expenses in check. Because of her quick sharp mind and ability to use subtle negotiation, she convinced him to contact a distant cousin for help. That was how they came to live at Gibbs House!

Soon his daughter had became his equal in making decisions and handling the accounts as well as keeping him on the straight and narrow—that was until this horrible year—1886. Daniel hated himself for having to keep his daughter in the dark as he secretly vice was quickly getting the best of him. Once again—deluding himself he that he was doing it all for her, he got involved in a very illegal scheme.

Once he had started to sink so deeply in debt, he cleverly began to keep two sets of books. The account books that his daughter worked with were kept in the left top-hand drawer of the desk. They reflected that the household was still in good shape. But the real set of accounts were safely stored in a secret place cleverly eked out behind his wife’s portrait on the wall. That set of books reveled just how deeply under water they were.

Closing his eyes, he applied pressure to his temples as he tried hard to decide on what options he might still have available. As he sat there rolling over plan after plan in his mind, there was only one real course that would benefit everyone concerned—especially Jewel.

Time seemed to crawl by and Daniel leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and prayed for the strength to accomplish this last task he had set for himself.

A few moments later, a hand nervously reached out and picked up the weapon. The report sounded loud only because of the silence within the house. Outside, the normal routine of the neighborhood was hardly interrupted with all the noises of the horses and carriages moving along the Battery.

Daniel Gibbs fell forward onto the desk his head gushing blood all over the account books, which laid there open for the entire world to see!

I t was approximately a half hour later that the first tremor hit! It had been very slight—hardly noticeable, but then Daniel Gibbs had already taken his last breath on earth.

Suddenly without any warning, the ground began to shake and the earth opened up. The eruption happened with such magnitude that it seemed the world was coming to an end. Even though it only lasted about one minute, what a minute it was!

Daniel Gibbs would know nothing of the panic that covered his beloved city the evening of August 31st. He would never know if his daughter survived or died. His heart had stopped beating as the last notes of music were played. For Daniel Gibbs, there would be no fear, no distress, and no realization that the life and reputation he wanted to protect might cease to exist!

Chapter 1

The Red Hellion – Mobile, Alabama

I t was 1886, and the sun was about ready to disappear behind the horizon as its red glow began fading into a light pink throwing the pale violet glare over the dull blue sky. It wasn’t unusual this time of year for the thick grey mist to move up from the bay and creep over the countryside making it difficult to see the land beneath.

It was the magical time of day that Ben Claybourne loved. The lush green pastures took on a calm dullness, as twilight crept across the rural regions, but they still possessed an enchanting quality, which made one believe they were moving through a dreamlike sequence of time.

The big horse with its rider came roaring up the dirt road, his hoofs pounding the ground at a breakneck speed moving forward by pure instinct. The horses in the pastures raised their head taking little notice of the young man’s usual dramatic entrance. Such scenes had become a common sight at this particular time of day!

As rider and horse reached the main fence, Ben gathered himself and together they soared over as effortlessly as an eagle gliding across the sky—his bright red curls wildly flying around his sun bronzed face. Everyone within hearing couldn’t miss the enthusiastic Rebel yell as he galloped across the pasture nearest the house and toward the stables. It was always the same! He returned home all excited—his eyes flashing and his heart beating with wild pleasure!

There were no horses in the county who could touch Reb’s son Tourbillon!

He was the fastest stallion of the lot and had shown his mettle by winning every race Ben Claybourne had ever entered him in. This last race for glory was no different even though it was for the pure splendor of winning!

As far as everyone in the county was concerned Eli Whitfield, the son of one of the richest and most powerful men in Mobile, was a thorn in the side of most all the young men in the area. It was a well-known fact that he had for years been the Claybourne boy’s nemesis, finding an unconquerable opponent in his rival.

Once again, he had the audacity to challenge Ben for the umpteenth time to a winner take all race! And as usual Ben took it all by at least three rails! Eli was livid and as usual refused to settle the bet—to no one’s surprise!

As far as Ben was concerned, it was of no importance to him if Eli had no honor or pride. He and everyone who witnessed the competition knew who won and who lacked integrity! It was just one more thing that others keeping score could hold against him.

No one but Ben Claybourne had ever bothered with the Whitfield boy anyway. They were like night and day, and without Ben’s fragile friendship Eli would have had no one at all throughout school. In other words, Eli had friends as long as his money held out. Everyone knew he lacked honor and principals, but Ben was the only one who would put up with the boy’s poor character.

Ben Claybourne was the only person that Eli Whitfield could not buy, and he never understood why not! Still, he claimed Ben as a friend and often asked favors of him. After all, he wasn’t stupid enough to throw away the one tie he had to one of the most popular young men in the county.

It was when all the locals headed off to the university that Eli discovered having money made it possible for him to surround himself with lesser individuals—those who hung around as long as the money lasted. Although it saddened Ben to see that if Eli didn’t purchase such companions with his father’s money, he would have none. Still, he refused to turn his back on a childhood friend like so many of the other gentlemen from the Mobile area had after arriving at the university.

A fter seeing to his steed, Ben took a moment to hastily smooth his hair and straighten out his clothing. He could not face his mother without trying at least to look presentable. Although she was the one person in the world who understood him and relished in his quest for freedom and speed, he still could not bear to see any disappointment in her sparkling eyes. After all, he had inherited her love of horses and racing!

As he headed toward the back door of the house, he distinctly knew that old Hattie was sitting and waiting for him. She always kept an eye peeled for his loud and thunderous appearances same as she had when his mother was a young girl.

As the rheumatism was still giving the old woman fits, he paused to give her time to push her bulk out of the chair before entering. Before he saw his parents, she always had to have words with him as well as check out his appearance. She had been his trusted guide every since he was born!

Now, yo’se know you ain’t suppose to ride up to de stables in that manner, but yo’se is just like your mama, she would always say as he entered the house. No, gentleman acts likes that!

Now, now Hattie, he’d reply grabbing her and giving her a big hug. You always did say the same things to my mother, but I believe you said lady instead of gentleman—you old busy body!

Git outa my sight you bad child, she would laugh popping him on the rear as she had since he was just a toddler. They is waiting supper for you! Wouldn’t surprise me none iffen its cold.

Now, don’t you give me that— he laughed. You wouldn’t let one meal in this household be served cold!

He winked at old Hattie and added, How do I look?

Fine. You always do!

That’s my girl, he said, flashing her a big smile and giving the old woman a peck on the cheek.

Without ceremony he hurried to the dining room and slipped into his chair at the big oak table. The family no longer dressed for the evening meal as they had when his grandmother Margaret Claybourne had been alive. Everything they had ever known had changed after the war and time had marched on. If the Claybournes had not progressed steadily along with it, they would have been left behind like many of the old southern families.

Yet, they had been luckier than most Southern families at the end of the war. Both the Claybourne twins had come out of the war relatively unscathed. Still, the scars they suffered were within the soul and not on the exterior of the body.

After four years of grueling war, Stephen Claybourne had Oak Ridge to fall back on—especially since his partner Girard Boucher had kept the sugarcane crop profitable. As for Stewart Claybourne, he had never neglected his law profession during the entire war even though he invested heavily in blockade running for the Confederacy.

During the eight years of Reconstruction, Unionists, federal officials, former Confederates, and freedpeople struggled to define Alabama’s political and social landscape. While these individuals worked to rewrite Alabama’s constitution, others worked in the background to recapture the local and state government positions through legal action.

While Stewart Claybourne was out in front working with both sides, the Republicans and the Democrats both sought his legal counsel. Although Stephen concentrated on sugarcane farming and horse breeding, he was one of those who worked quietly in the shadows.

Both Claybourne twins were in agreement that the sooner both sides came together the sooner the state would be out from under Union rule. And that truth came to pass in 1874, after several years of financial hardships, political intrigue, and maneuvering by Democrats, the ex-Confederate faction of Alabama regained many of the local government positions as well as the office of governor.

Not bothering to look up as Ben slipped into the empty chair next to him. Stephen placed a slice of pork on a plate and passed it to Jessie, and then he did the same for his son.

Speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, he stated, So, I heard young Eli challenged you again.

News certainly travels fast, young Ben replied grinning. I just can’t get anything past you.

Well if you don’t wish to have this type of gossip blanket the county, I would suggest that you do a better job of keeping such racing bets hidden better. Perhaps keep the spectators to a minimum.

I take it that you are referring to my taking Micah along on these racing jaunts.

Stephen just nodded as Ben added, Micah and I have always done everything together—he’s my second.

Both his parent snickered a bit as Stephen suggested, You make it sound like you are attending a duel.

Well, racing is like dueling. The exception is that no one gets killed!

Smiling, Jessie added, He has you there, my love.

Ignoring his wife’s jab, he asked, When are you going to learn to curb this appetite for racing? I would have thought by now you would have outgrown this childishness.

Ben was reluctant to answer his father. He had been so careful in planning how he might handle the proposition that he wanted to discuss with his parents this evening. Now, that he had the best opportunity to bring it up, he hesitated.

At least, do this local challenging quietly, Stephen added, cutting off a piece of meat for himself.

Lowering his head, Ben glanced at his mother silently begging for her help in the matter.

Understanding that her son was vacillating, she sighed, So, don’t keep us in suspense—Micah had been awfully excited when he told us that you won.

I take it Micah is over at his girl’s house, Ben sighed as if he might be a bit envious of his best friend. Said that he had been invited to dinner with her parents. Still—he found time to stop by here and carry on a conversation with the both of you?

He did, Jessie said with a little grin. She’s a very sweet child and comes from a nice family. You could also do as well if only you’d try.

All of that’s fine, Stephen interrupted, "but I’m interested to know how much Tourbillon won by."

By the way you’ve been talking, I thought you already knew! he shook out his napkin and placed it in his lap. "I beat that new stallion of Eli’s by at least a couple of links. There isn’t a horse in the county that’s a match for Tourbillon."

Ben couldn’t help himself—he had to smirk. Beaming with pride, he stated a little to gleefully, Eli now owes me three horses and a ton of money.

Glad to finally see that you’re keeping score. Stephen’s eyebrows lifted, somewhat surprised.

Do you honestly think that boy is ever going to honor his debts? Jessie questioned her husband, arching a brow.

Of course not!

I guess I really don’t expect him to do so either! Ben laughed his eyes, dancing. In all these years, he has never shown one bit of remorse on his welching!

Stephen cleared his throat and mumbled, Like father—like son!

Yes, dear, Jessie answered for her son. We know! The senior Whitfield welched heavily on a deal with you a number of years back.

Now, don’t you go getting snippy with me, Jessie Buchannan Claybourne, Stephen admonished her, a lilt in his voice. A deal is a deal and a bet is a bet! Things like that only tend to show a person’s real character.

Oh, Pop, Ben said frowning, you shouldn’t be too hard on Eli! He wasn’t as lucky as I was—he didn’t have parents like you and Mom to look up to!

Jessie smiled over at her handsome redheaded son, relishing in the fact that he was tall and broad shouldered like his father and just as handsome. As much as people swore young Ben was the spitting image of her with that wild mop of curly red hair, she could see that he was much more weathered and bronzed like his father with the same dark sensitive eyes!

Ben loved horses as much as she did, and he had her flare for riding and training them. Jessie swore that it was the fact that he road the countryside at neck-break speed his hair flying like the devil himself that had caused everyone to regenerate the name she had worked so hard to shed— the red hellion!

You are much too kindhearted, Ben, but when are you going to learn— Stephen sighed as he glanced over at his son.

Interrupting, Jessie jumped in saying, Let’s change the subject. Now, what do you want for your twenty-first birthday? This is the big one—so don’t hold back!

A gleam came into the boy’s dark eyes as he thought about how to approach the subject he had been toying with. Finally, he spoke up.

We have been raising thoroughbreds for other people to race for years now, he began as he took a quick gander at his father, haven’t you ever been tempted to take a year and try your hand at racing some of our colts and fillies?

Stephen cocked his head and hunched his shoulders. I thought about it at one time, but your mother and I were more inclined toward the quieter side of life. We decided early on that it was much more lucrative to just breed and sell thoroughbreds. We have worked hard and long developing an excellent bloodline equal to England. In the past few years we have finally began to make a sizable profit, and I do not wish to spend this money racing them.

Swallowing, Ben stated flatly, I think I would like to enter a few more major races this year—not just the small local ones.

Aren’t these local racing circuits enough? his father muttered.

"I’ve won just about every local and state race around. I’ve taken Mobile Bay and Jessie’s Pride to every possible state race in Mississippi, Alabama and Georgia, not to mention the New Orleans Handicap this past December." He tried to sound so serious and dignified—so unlike his jovial self.

Neither Stephen nor Jessie said a word as they continued to concentrate on eating. Ben couldn’t be bothered with food at that moment. He hated it when his parents appeared to be ignoring him, even though he knew they were probably thinking about what he had said. He was having a hard time keeping quiet in order for them to concentrate on his words.

Finally he couldn’t help himself as he added, "Jessie’s Pride and Mobile Bay came in first and second at the New Orleans Handicap. If you recall, they finish respectively in the same positions earlier in October and November at the State Fair Races in Georgia and Mississippi."

We know, darling, Jessie said soothingly. It’s just a big step and your father and I must consider everything involved.

Just one year is all I ask for—

Jessie just smiled and Stephen took a swallow of his tea. Neither spoke.

Ben continued, One year to show my thoroughbreds on the big eastern race circuit. It’s in my blood—rather the part I got from Mom. One year to see if I can make a living at it!

And you want me to foot the entry fees, stable rentals, traveling and living expenses for a year?

Well, at least the first few months, Ben replied a light lilt in his voice. Hopefully I can win enough to manage the fees after that. If not—then I’ll call it quits.

Stephen, don’t you think we can afford to let Ben have this one birthday wish? He has rarely asked for anything.

Stephen looked over at his beautiful petite wife and just smiled. "Really? I believe he talked me out of the best breed colt at the age of seventeen to race locally. Then just the last two years he enticed me to let him have Mobile Bay and Jessie’s Pride—telling me it would be grand publicity for the farm to have a few winners under our belts!"

Well, my darling husband, some of those things just don’t count! Let’s face it you’ve begun to see these things a bit differently now that Ben has shown the two thoroughbreds to be winners.

And you see them how?

"You were more than happy to let Ben have the filly Jessie’s Pride. I seem to recall that the deal was that since the Arabian had bred both brood mares, Ben might have his choice of foals."

Pray continue. Stephen leaned back in his chair and stared at his wife.

"But once you saw the little filly, you thought she was a total waste of good money. At the time, you were so angry about being duped into purchasing the Arabian stallion that you told Ben he was welcome to the other horse’s foal also. Little did you know that Mobile Bay would end up being perfection itself? But you had given both colts to Ben and—"

Stephen laughed, And you, my darling little wife, held me to my word.

She smiled, leaned over and patted his arm. The fact was that both were sired by the Arabian certainly wasn’t Ben’s fault, and just because the colt turned out to be spirited, bold and quick was as much a surprise to you and to Ben."

Jessie, you have never worried about money—especially if your precious little boy wanted something.

That’s true.

Besides, that best colt I mentioned was sired by your stallion Rebel, and you are always quick to remind me that you had the right to sell the foal or give him to whoever you pleased!

True. It was Ben’s birthday present.

Ben watched his parents sparring playfully. He knew that the money was of no issue to his father, and that the breeding part of the farm was totally his mother’s. But being wise beyond her years, she always let his father make the final decisions, and this time was no different.

Stephen shook his head and laughed, That’s your mother for you, Ben! Her arguments are laced with facts that I cannot dispute—still she could have just smiled at me and won without a single word!

Jessie blushed and tried to hide her reddened cheeks.

See, Pop, you can still make Mom blush!

Jessie jumped in trying to steer the conversation away from her and back to the topic of racing, Tell us your ideas about how you might plan to go about this new venture of yours!

"I think I’d like to take my two 3 year olds, Mobile Bay and Jessie’s Pride, to Charleston, South Carolina. You know sort of stick my toe in the water! The Driving Association Race Course should fit the bill for a first showing of the year! It’s going to be big this year with the South Carolina Jockey Club once again sanctioning the return of thoroughbred racing."

Stephen looked over at his son, I’ve read where the past few years have been rather successful at the new racetrack, but that was with harness racing. It was sad that they had so much trouble getting started again after the war, and I guess having to close down the Washington Race Course after seventy odd years of racing was pretty devastating at the time.

"When the Jockey Club no longer sanctioned thoroughbred horse racing, a Charleston businessman took it upon himself to build a new racetrack just north of the old one for harness racing only. It has filled the entertainment void for two years now. Ben stopped and took a few swallows of his tea before continuing.

It seemed the South Carolina Jockey Club really wanted to revitalize the racing circuit in the Lowcountry and get Charleston back on the eastern circuit. Whatever needed doing, they apparently got it done! Charleston has been added to the racing schedule this year.

And you have your eye on running both thoroughbreds there?

Ben nodded. From what I understand, everyone has worked extremely hard to also bring back all the Charleston social events traditions, which were such a popular part of the old Race Week.

Are you sure that you aren’t more interested in that social calendar than the racing? You know all the dinner parties, dances, and other invitations extended to foreigners and out of state guests by the citizens of Charleston.

Not to mention all the beautiful young girls! Jessie added.

Ben smiled and replied in a snappy manner, Naturally, I might just meet the girl of my dreams and bring home a rich Charleston beauty! You’d like that wouldn’t you, Mom?

That would be nice, Jessie said nonchalantly, taking another biscuit and buttering it.

Kidding aside, this is a big opportunity! They have flat course racing scheduled for both Fridays, and also a couple of harness races for trotters. Then on Sunday to top things off, there is a half-mile race reserved for regular mounts and their riders.

Humm— Stephen rubbed his chin and looked directly into Ben’s eyes. So, just how many horses are we talking about?

Ben just shrugged and smiled, preferring to ignore the question for the moment. My first concern is regarding a jockey.

Well, I know you are not planning on hiring a jockey to ride the flat courses as that would cost extra money. And since we will be footing the bill, you will need to be on the frugal side. Moreover, you certainly aren’t crazy enough to try to ride yourself! he said a frown crossing his forehead. So, what are the plans as far as a jockey is concerned?

I’ve always believed the jockey should be rather light, giving the horse the advantage of not feeling weighted down. But the problem most owners have is whether the jockey has a good feel for the horse—that is more important than weight.

Well, you definitely fit the last part of that bill—having that special rapport with your animals! But as far as being small and light—who do you have in mind?

"We know I’m too heavy, even though I’ve ridden all three horses in local races and have easily won. And when I’ve raced both thoroughbreds in the same race, Micah has always ridden Mobile Bay."

Micah’s good, but what if he can’t get away for that long? He has obligations here.

Oh, we discussed it, and he’s more than wiling, Ben said. You won’t be needing him for a while will you?

Stephen let out a bit of air. Humph—

You know racing has changed a lot since your day, Pop, Ben said grinning like the cat that ate the canary. In your time, a man could ride his own horse or have a slave ride for him—costing nothing! But today, you have to have a jockey as well as your colors and all the paperwork and the race records! Let’s face it no one knows our colts better than Micah. He has raised them, trained them and ridden them for years. But if you rather I take someone else. And if I have to—I guess Bugger could ride, or I could hire a jockey.

You really think Bugger could ride in a race against other more experienced jockeys?

Of course not, but you did mention that I must be frugal.

Practicing good economy—yes! But using an inexperienced rider—no!

Good then it’s settled?

I guess so! Stephen said, letting out a breath of air.

Jessie stated in a firm tone more like a business person than a mother, Now that you’ve got a jockey, our stable colors, and the financing, isn’t it a bit late to start filling out paperwork and applying?

A light flush covered Ben’s face and a bit embarrassed, he replied, I did all of that last year. I just got in under the wire at certain tracks—

What did you do about the entry fees? I’m sure they didn’t accept promissory notes—not even from Oak Ridge Farms.

Why, Ben Claybourne, Jessie exclaimed as if she had been taken completely by surprise, how very deceitful of you? All that money you borrowed from me was for this foolish project. Why couldn’t you have just told me the real truth about what you were going to use it for?

Stephen glanced from one to the other. He was no fool—even if his wife was pretending to know nothing about this racing business—he knew better than to confront her in front of Ben! She was money smart, horseflesh smart, and smart in general. Even her son was no match for her if she was so inclined to know the truth!

Yes, he would need to quiz her later when they were alone.

Trying to change the subject quickly, Jessie added, "Both Mobile Bay and Jessie’s Pride have great bloodlines, and we know from the races this past year that both are extremely fast on the track. Seems to me that you have a decent chance of at least placing well! I say go for it!"

Stephen added with a slight frown on his forehead, Setting aside the fact that your mother isn’t very good at duplicity and is very predisposed in your favor, I’m going to back this adventure of yours.

Ben beamed and started to say something, but Stephen held up a hand and stopped him. I’m not worried at all about the colt being able to make a good showing! But fillies just don’t do well when it comes to running the racing circuit. They just don’t have the stamina or strength to run with the big boys!

"Sorry, Pop, I have to disagree with you. I figure if I pick and choose the races for Pride, she will show her merit! Ben added quickly, After all she has done quite well on the local and state tracks."

Stephen shook his head. "I remember her first race. It was so local that there wasn’t even a starter. As for the other horses, many were just regular nags. When the other horses took off, Jessie’s Pride just stood there waiting. We three figured the race would certainly be lost by the time she made up her mind whether to run or not!"

But when she did decide— Jessie exclaimed, it was all over for the rest of the field! You must admit, Stephen, that she was rather impressive passing each and everyone and winning by at least eight lengths!

Jessie had a prideful smile on her beautiful face, as she added, Beauty does not determine agility and speed.

Yes, my dear, Stephen sighed, but you need to remember just what kind of field she was running against in order to come from behind and win.

Okay, Pop, putting that race aside, Ben, replied adding, you have to admit in her second start, she had some tougher competition. There were those two colts that had been winning everything in New Orleans and Tennessee, real go-getters or at least the big betters thought!

"That is everyone but Pride! Jessie said, anxious to help Ben out. She actually looked down her nose at those colts."

Ben nodded as he added to his mother’s statements, "Pride gave everyone a nice little head start and then she took off passing and leaving them all in the dust— easily winning that race also. You must admit, Pride’s come from behind style has never deviated!"

"Pride is definitely a winner. She has won all of her ten races in three states! Jessie teased her husband as she slyly glanced at him. Stephen, admit it—that was a good showing for a mere two year-old filly."

Her husband just grinned that horrid crooked grin of his. "Did the two of you forget that Mobile Bay was also running in all those races?"

Neither said anything; so Stephen continued, "The filly cannot stand for him to beat her at anything. How will she do against other thoroughbreds without Mobile Bay to egg her on?"

Ben had no answer for his father. All he knew was that he always rode Pride in races and Micah rode the colt. He was sure that she would make a good showing with a lighter jockey against other horses even if Mobile Bay wasn’t running. He had nothing to prove the point, but his belief in the filly.

Changing the subject, Ben purposefully neglected to answer his father’s question. Micah and I can handle everything between the two of us.

Possibly if you were only dealing with the two thoroughbreds. What about the transportation and stabling of three horses—not to mention the two draft horses you’ll need to move the thoroughbreds around? You’ll need additional help to care for five horses. his father insisted. Besides if you’re planning on representing Oak Ridge, you will need to be free enough to mingle with other stable owners.

I guess I didn’t think that far ahead. It’s just always been Micah and me.

Then I’m guessing it’ll be alright with you if I insist on adding Bugger to your entourage. Although he’s a bit young, I think it’s a rather good idea since he works closely with Micah in the stables. What about Kenny? He’s not bad with the animals, and he could surely take on the responsibility of the draft horses. They’ll need to be housed somewhere near the track.

I agree! Smiling broadly at his father, Ben asked directly, Anyway, just how did you know exactly what I was planning in regard to the number of horses?

I wasn’t born yesterday, Benjamin! I’ve dealt with enough horse owners to understand their idiosyncrasies. Still, you seemed to forget that you mentioned that special regular mount race in Charleston. I knew you couldn’t resist racing at least once yourself, and when I asked you how many horses you planned to take, you avoided answering.

Would you like to come with me and help?

Stephen shook his head. No—I’m more interested these days in the breeding of thoroughbreds rather than racing them.

And in the creation of new and better ways to grow sugar cane? Ben asked. Your interest in the productive end of breeding has always been mainly for Mom as she gave up her interest in racing because she loved you more!"

She just knew that I got all my love of racing out of my blood during the war.

Throwing his hands into the air, Ben laughed, I know! I know! How many times have I heard that story?

Not enough—it seems! Stephen said his eyes narrowing. Twenty-one years seems a long time, but for some of us it was just yesterday.

The silence that ensued hung in the room like a heavy mist off the Gulf. No one ventured to break the quietness as they sat concentrating on the food before them.

Ben had never really known a time that there wasn’t more than enough food to eat, a comfortable bed for sleeping, or a warm roof over his head. But his parents could, at the drop of a handkerchief, recall all the hardships and dangers that they had endured during the war and even after the war ended.

They also had lived through the brutal reconstruction period. Although they were among some of the lucky ones who still had a home and food on the table, they still had their share of trials and tribulations.

But Mobile, like New Orleans, had a fair abundance of free slaves—many were mulatto descendants of the early Spanish and the French Creoles. Because the citizens were already accustomed to living side-by-side with free blacks, the Unionists, former Confederates, and freedpeople were able to come together with the military and federal officials to redefine Alabama’s political and social landscape.

It was the collapse of the stock market in 1873 causing a depression, which came close to sweeping away the increasingly peaceful coexistence that had taken root across Alabama. Yet in cities with large African American populations, such as Mobile, Montgomery and even Selma continued to remain relatively safe from violence and real gains were slowly made. By 1874, the Democrats had finally come into their own and were in a position to virtually defeat the Republicans and take back the state—thus ending the Reconstruction—three years earlier than many other states in the South.

A s the three sat letting their minds slip back in time, Jessie broke the spell, Now you two stop it—the war is nothing to joke about.

We know, Mom! Just the same old—I’ve been there before speech! It does get a bit tiresome after a while.

Only because you didn’t live through it!

She smiled and shook her head as she walked over and wrapped her arms around her husband’s shoulders. Planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, she added, Don’t feel bad, Sweetheart, Ben laughs at me when I race him bareback.

That’s only because he still can’t beat you without a saddle to hold on to!

Go ahead you two—get a good laugh now because you will be laughing a lot less when I make the name Claybourne famous on the racing circuit!

Perhaps your mother would like to join you on that racing circuit, Stephen smiled, adding, that’s how she’s kept her figure all these years—mucking out stables.

Oh, you’re one to talk, Stephen Claybourne, she laughed her eyes twinkling, the man who wouldn’t let anyone dare touch his horse!

He just looked at his wife with the most loving smile. Where most sons would be embarrassed by their parents’ actions toward one another, Ben thought it was cute! He just hoped that one day he could find someone like his mother and be as happy as his parents were!

So, Mom, are you game? Can I count on you to sign on as a stable hand?

She smiled at him, replying sweetly, "I don’t believe so. I need to stay here and keep an eye on your father. He gets into trouble so easily! But if you don’t have anyone in mind other then Micah and two stable boys—I’ll bite the bullet and volunteer!"

Well, I don’t know if you would call it help, but Eli has been begging to go along.

My God, Ben, Stephen exclaimed, I’m sure you can do better then Eli Whitfield? He is worthless—maybe more then worthless! He wouldn’t know what a good days work was!

Ben shook his head and laughed, I know—Eli is not the most reliable person—

You think? Jessie interrupted her son. He is the worst possible individual you could choose for an assistant—especially so far from home.

I just couldn’t think of any good reason to tell him he couldn’t go along, Ben said shaking his head and sighing. "Since he volunteered to pay his own way.

Besides, if I go off and leave him to his own means, he’ll only get into some kind of trouble."

Ben you can’t look after Eli the rest of your life. If you hadn’t befriended him all these years he would have been completely friendless. As it is, from what I hear, he really has no friends.

Yes, Sweetheart, Jessie murmured softly, The only reason he was accepted within your circles was because of your friendship with him. I really can’t think of anyone who has ever really liked the boy—and that includes adults!

Stephen added, He can buy plenty of friends while your gone—the same way he did at the University.

Sure he can, pop, but once the money runs out so do they! And poor Eli is left licking his wounds.

And no one deserves to have such injuries more then a Whitfield!

Don’t you think you are really too hard on him, Pop?

Jessie looked at her son. She knew that he only saw the best in people and never the worst. Ben was a good and faithful friend, and he had stood-by Eli all those growing up years. Still, she couldn’t help but wish that he would disengage himself from such a leach as Eli Whitfield at least this time.

She answered her son’s question. Small men like Eli are generally arrogant and selfish. They try to makeup in belligerent and egoistical actions what they lack in height and looks. They just believe that money buys them respect, but it just shows others how conniving and deceitful they can be!

Jessie’s right—men like Eli are very smug and self-centered individuals who only look out for number one! But then again look at who he has had as an example—his father.

Ben’s mother murmured, Who’s going to have your back?

You don’t really have to worry since Micah will be there, but I’m big enough to take care of myself! Still, I like it when you worry, Mom!

Jessie couldn’t help but smile as she walked over to her son. Reaching out, she messed his bight red hair with her hand.

You on the other hand, Sweetie, Jessie said, bending close to his ear, you are a grown man, and you can make your own decisions. We are certainly not going to tell you who you should take on this adventure, and who you should not! But you are such a tenderhearted and compassionate creature, who sympathizes with people that are disadvantaged or victims. We are sensitive to your kindness and compassion, but others can easily take advantage of it.

Boy, you know how to cut a person don’t you, Jessie Buchanan Claybourne? Ben teased. First, you give me a build up about being my own man, then you slap me down with how sensitive and easily manipulated I am!

Like your mother said, it’s your choice—just sort of gloss over her other statement, his father said boosting his moral again.

Jessie retuned to her chair and sat down. The three sat there in silence finishing the meal. No one wanted to pursue the last subject any further. Finally, Stephen broke the silence.

I guess we can foot the entry fees and expenses for you for a while, but I still would like a schedule of where you plan to run the colts. Fair enough?

More then fair!

Then, my sweet boy, Jessie sighed, there is nothing else to say except that we both will keep our fingers crossed.

She had risen once again from her place at the table and was fixing to leave the room when she suddenly turned and winked at her son. Oh yes, please do try to bring home that rich beautiful girl you mentioned!

Chapter 2

The Childhood Friend – Mobile, Alabama

T he late afternoon sun threw the last of its gleaming light across the bare branches of the dogwood trees surrounding the Whitfield mansion. It was a fine example of Mobile’s French and Spanish colonial style homes built of red brick and white columns with porches that often wrapped around the side of the house that faced out onto a lovely garden. Although all of the surrounding houses were large and impressive, the main advantage that the Whitfield house had was that it sat imposingly on a half city block in one of the best sections of town.

Grover Ellis Whitfield Sr. had moved south right after the war and proceeded to embed himself deeply into his chosen community. As Mobile was the only Southern port that came out of the war literally unscathed, he had chosen it for a number of different reasons. None of which mattered once he and his wife Arabella arrived and discovered there was more to living in the South than just a quick dollar and fly-by-night friends.

The northern Whitfields were the second richest family and one of the most powerful families in Albany, Indiana. Grover Whitfield had married the prettiest girl in Albany, Arabella Williamson. She came from a very respected family but one with little money. Arabella had definitely married well as a young girl even though Grover Whitfield was ten years her senior.

Grover, being the youngest of three sons, understood that the eldest son would be the one to take his father’s place. Being a very ambitious man, he was determined to make his mark and fortune on his own.

After listening to many of the businessmen around him about all the opportunities speculators and investors might have in the South during the Reconstruction Period, he had approached his father to finance his venture.

So with family money behind him, Grover Whitfield packed up his family and moved south to Mobile. At first, he cunningly schemed and influenced others to his own advantage as he managed to accumulate wealth at the destruction and devastation of others found in dire need during this time.

For a while there had been a strong push to confiscate all property of those who fought or sided with the Confederate armies in payment of the United States war debt. Then in addition to this fear, rumors spread about using seizure against those individuals guilty of the offenses against the military law. Everyone lived from one day to the next in apprehension of everything they had been able to scrape together being snatched away from them at a moment’s notice.

The Whitfields had fallen in love with Spring Hill, an affluent neighborhood sitting on a broad hill west of downtown Mobile. This particular section of town reminded Eli Whitfield of his hometown Albany. Once he had accumulated enough money and felt secure in his position, he was determined to put down roots and raise his family among people breed to be pleasant and hospitable even toward their enemies.

A fter careful evaluation and observing the way that things had been positioned in the city, he made the long-term decision to side with the old Southern families that outwardly despised him. Wisely, he knew that one day the Federal military would be gone and Mobile would once again be in the hands of the Democrats since the city was already positioned with forty-one percent of the population having been freedmen for years before the war.

Because many Northerners in high positions within the military government believed that the Claybourne twins had been of great aid to the North, they turned a deaf ear and left them isolated from their neighbors and alone. This advantage in the end aided many Mobile families when it came to monetary needs, as the Claybournes funneled needed funds to help others and bring their beloved Mobile back to its previous glory. Also, the family’s unheralded sacrifices during the war were never spoken of even though certain Confederate families secretly knew about them. It was unwritten that everyone would go to their death before sacrificing either of the Claybournes to the Yankees.

Wisely, Grover Whitfield had chosen to work with many of the citizens generously contributing to the rebuilding the community and supporting the cultural patterns in places where it would benefit him the most while insuring his place one day in Mobile society. Many of the Old Southern Gentry turned their backs on the man, but many others looking ahead accepted his terms and dealt with him being able to point to many places where the city once again began to thrive.

Needless to say after twenty years, the man not only had ended up holding a highly elected position in the local city government once the Reconstruction was over, but also had amazingly been able to wiggle his way into the local society cementing relationships among many of the most distinguished and oldest families.

Still, there were others in Mobile who could not be swayed by his false pretenses, and they quietly refused invitations and offered no visitations to their homes. The Claybournes were one such family. Whitfield knew exactly why Stephen Claybourne did not care for him—he had early on made the mistake of cheating the man. Even years later, there had been no burying of the hatchet.

Even Whitfield’s close working relationship with Stewart Claybourne, Stephen’s twin, made no inroads in helping to eradicate the man’s earlier blunder. At one time, Whitfield thought that his son’s friendship with Ben might soften Stephen Claybourne’s attitude toward him, but nothing could ever induce Stephen and Jessie Claybourne to be more than mere nodding acquaintances even twelve years after the Reconstruction period ended.

The fact that Jesse Claybourne had been on the receiving end of the abhorrence and scorn of the carpetbaggers and scalawags at the end of the war only tended to reinforce her position among true blue southerners. As someone who had outsmarted the corruption and meddlesome activities of these interlopers, she was quietly and silently considered throughout the state—rich or poor—a Southern heroine humble to the bone.

Like his mother, Ben conveyed the same modest spirit without arrogance or pride. He treated everyone with the same concern and empathy and was beloved by all—from the lowest workingman to the richest land baron.

This respect was something that Grover Whitfield had not been able to secure even though he had worked hard to insure that his two children, Eli and Ella might hold a prominent position in society. He had discovered early in his association with many Mobile businessmen that just because one had money one could not demand, steal or buy respect.

Although he was not in the same class as the Claybournes, he never gave up the desire to equal either twin in other’s eyes. He whole-heartedly encouraged his son’s close relationship with Ben Claybourne as he hoped that one day some of young Ben would rub off on Eli!

M ost afternoons before dinner, Eli’s little sister could be found on the side porch holding court with any number of young boys. On this particular day, she was entertaining the Bullock boys who had just returned from Atlanta, Georgia.

Batting her eyes in the eldest Bullock’s direction, she pursed her lips and scolded, How could the two of you manage to get expelled for the third time in two years? I understand that you, Billy Bob, care little about getting an education, but how could you do it again to little Richie here? Every time you get into trouble you cause your brother to be expelled along with you.

She tapped his chest with her little lacy fan.

Oh, Ella, Richie mumbled shyly, I don’t mind—I couldn’t let Billy Bob take all the blame himself. Besides I can always go up North to school.

Why, Richard T. Bullock, you know that you don’t want to live among Yankees! she exclaimed making a little pouting face.

Both boys laughed, but it was Billy Bob who teased her. Look at the pot calling the kettle black.

She jumped up and stamped her foot angrily. "I am not a Yankee! I was born right here in Mobile—the same as you! And if you continue to