THE OUTLAW'S THANKSGIVING by Cia Leah

       Katie Morgan vigorously rolled out the
piecrust for the pumpkin and apple pies for Thanksgiving dinner.   She only had two days and so much to do
yet.   She swiped her hair back from her
face and was thankful her Grandma was asleep.   They’d had a long day as it was and she needed to relax.   Plying the rolling pin to the dough helped
ease her anger too.
           When she thought back to a week ago, she
could just kick herself in the behind for not noticing that grandma had left
the mercantile to go down the steps to get to the buggy.   She’d been talking to Loretta about things
she would need for Thanksgiving dinner.   Her grandma fell and broke her leg, which meant her Uncle Matt couldn’t
take care of her along with his job as Marshall.   So, the only obvious solution was that Grandma would stay with
her until she her leg healed.
           Katie sighed.   She didn’t mind taking care of her grandma, but it was time
consuming.   Her grandma liked to talk
and being out here instead of in town, closed her off from her friends,
especially since winter had set in.   The
woman was bored plain and simple.
           She just slipped the first of the pies
into the oven, when she heard Buster barking.   She prayed he didn’t corner that coon again in the barn.   She wiped her hands on her apron, grabbed
her coat, and her shotgun and stepped out onto the porch.   “My goodness,” she said, seeing a man lying
in the snow beside a horse.   She ran
down the steps and knelt down beside him.   “Mister?   Can you hear me?”   She rolled him over onto his back.
           She quickly checked him over for signs of
injury, but didn’t find anything wrong.   At a loss as to what to do, she removed his hat, and saw a deep gash on
the side of his right temple.   Dusk was
settling in and snow was coming down faster.   She needed to get him inside and she sure couldn’t carry him.   He was about six foot two, about two hundred
pounds and solid muscle.   He was cute
too with his black wavy hair and black beard.   “Come on, Mister, wake up.”   She
grabbed some snow and bathed his face with it.
           “Damn it.   That’s cold!”
           Katie smiled.   “Do you think you can stand up so I can help you into the cabin?”
           “Dizzy.”
           “I bet you are with that gash in your
head.   What happened to you?”   In the last few shreds of daylight, he
opened his eyes, and Katie gasped.   They
were gray, the color of the snow clouds in the sky, fringed with thick black
lashes.   They were beautiful.
           “I was riding through the woods and
someone shot.   I almost fell from the
saddle as my horse took off under me.   I
held on and then remember falling.”
           “Probably some hunters out looking for
deer meat.   Do you think you can
stand?   I’ll help you.”
           “I can try,” he said, sitting up and
grabbing his head.   “Man, that hurts!”
           “Take it slow.   Try and get to your feet now.   Lean on me.”   She slipped her arm
under his and around his waist as he struggled to his feet.   He swayed, but she kept him upright.   “It’s only a few steps into the cabin.   “Come on.   I’ll take care of your horse after I tend to you.”
           “Mighty obliged.”
           When they made it into the cabin, Katie
helped him to the cot built into the wall on the other side of the room.   Her grandma was in the bedroom that belonged
to her parents and besides this cot, there was no other place to put him.   “Go ahead and lie down.   I’ll get a basin of water and clean that up
for you.”
           “Thanks,” he said, his eyes closed
against the pain.
           Katie checked the pies, then got the
basin of water, some cloths, and a bottle of whiskey and returned to the
man.   She set the things on the small
bedside stand and pulled up a stool.