THE OUTLAW'S THANKSGIVING by Cia Leah Page A

  “Do you want a drink of whiskey before I start cleaning your
wound?”  
           “Yes.”   He leaned up on one elbow and took the bottle she offered and took a
couple healthy swigs, then lay back down.   “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”
           “Think nothing of it.   What’s your name?”   She wet a cloth in the water and began cleaning the wound,
pausing when he flinched.
           “Markus Cole.   Yours?”
           “Katie Morgan.”   She finished cleaning the blood away from his injury and sat back
a minute.   That’s going to need a few
stitches.”
           He groaned.   Not because of the stitches, but he knew her.   Had gone to school with her and her Uncle
Matt was the Marshall in town.   How the
heck was he going to keep his identity a secret?   Of course, with the beard, he didn’t think she would recognize
him.   She hadn’t so far anyways and it
had been years since he left town.   “Can
you stitch me up?”
           “Yes, just let me get the pies out of the
oven and put the others in.”
           He watched her walk across the room to
the stove and wondered what happened to her parents.   She seemed alone, unless she had a husband out doing farm
work.     “Those pies sure do smell
good,” he said, watching as she set them on the table to cool.
           “I’m glad I made extra.   With that head wound of yours, you aren’t
going anywhere too soon and Thanksgiving is day after tomorrow.”
           “I don’t want to impose and I’m sure I’ll
feel better tomorrow after something to eat and some sleep.   I’ll be on my way by late afternoon.”
           Katie put the other pies in the
oven.   She walked to her sewing kit and
got a needle and thread.   She walked
over and poured some whiskey on the needle and threaded it.   When she sat down to begin sewing up his
wound, she glanced at him.   “You’re
welcome to stay.   There’s just grandma
and I here, and my Uncle Matt will come for dinner.   You won’t be imposing and I’m not quite sure you will be able to
ride by tomorrow.   I hope you don’t get
infection, but leaving here wouldn’t be a good idea until we see how you are
doing.”
           “I think I will be all right.   You ready to ply that needle to my head?”
           Katie grinned.   “You can’t be that anxious to get this done, but I’ll be as
gentle as possible.   You might want a
couple more drinks out of that bottle to dull the pain.”
           “I think I’ve had enough, so go ahead and
get started.”
           Katie moved her stool closer and prayed
she didn’t hurt him too much.   One time
she’d about sliced her finger off cutting potatoes and Doc Landry had to stitch
her up.   She thought the pain unbearable
at the time.   As she worked, she
couldn’t help but admire his strength.   Other than a couple flinches, he done good.   “There you go.   Six
stitches.”
           “Thanks again.”
           “You’re welcome.   Would you like some coffee and something to
eat?”
           “Coffee would be nice and a piece of one
of those pies if you have enough to spare.”
           “I sure do.   Let me get it and then I’ll go take care of your horse.”
           Katie served him his food, then grabbed
her coat and went outside.   The wind was
picking up and the snow still coming down.   She led the horse to the barn, unsaddled it, rubbed it down, and fed
it.   She took his saddlebags and threw
them over her shoulder, figuring he might want his things in the morning.  
           She laughed when Buster came in the barn
and barked at her.   “You can stay in the
house tonight out of the weather.   Come
on.”
           When she went back inside the cabin,
Buster walked over and lay down on the floor by Markus’s cot.   “Guess you’ll keep an eye on our guest,”