Shared By the Cowboys by Cassie Cole

37

Rebecca

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Mason had been hovering over my shoulder all morning while I prepared the turkey. Now he was eying the way I slid butter between the skin and breast meat.

“I’ve cooked a Thanksgiving turkey three years in a row,” I replied. “Stop bothering me. Shoo!”

“Just making sure,” he replied before wandering off.

Blake chuckled as the eldest brother left the kitchen. “Been doing that to me my entire life.”

“He’s the eldest,” Cody said while peeling eggs. “He means well. He just can’t help himself.”

“Don’t care if he means well. Just care that it’s annoying as fuck,” Blake said.

He gave me a smile, which let me know he was mostly joking. It was a huge step from when I first arrived, when he and Mason were at each other’s throats all the time.

Mason was right when he said they need a woman to be the glue to hold them together, I thought as I put the turkey into the oven.

Most of the food was from the ranch, turkey notwithstanding. Cody made deviled eggs while Blake sauteed the field peas and lentils in bacon grease. Mason was working on the hard cider, which had been fermenting for exactly fourteen days. The only other items that didn’t come from the ranch were the dinner rolls and mashed potatoes. But even those used butter I had churned the other day.

“Doesn’t it look perfect?” I asked while taking the turkey out of the oven. The skin was a crispy golden brown, and the smell of cooked meat filled the room.

“It looks mighty fine,” Mason admitted.

“Will you do the honors of carving it?” I asked.

He grinned. “Don’t mind if I do.”

He used a set of tongs and a carving knife to slice away chunks of turkey. Juices ran away with every slice, and the interior was perfectly cooked. I sighed with relief. Even though I had cooked a Thanksgiving turkey three years in a row for my friends in Great Falls, this was a different type of oven and I had been afraid it would be too dry.

Blake ran up, reached over his brother’s arm to grab a juicy piece of turkey, and then ran off.

Mason aimed the carving knife at him. “Stop it.”

“Just making sure you carve it right.” He ducked in and grabbed a second piece, eliciting a backhanded swat from Mason.

“Hey now, you only have to wait a few more minutes,” Cody said. “Then you can eat all the turkey you want.”

“I wanted some now,” Blake replied simply, as if it were obvious.

For a few seconds I could see how they were as kids. Mason, the stern eldest brother. Blake, the trouble-making middle child. And Cody, the youngest who just wanted everyone to get along.

It made me smile as we set the table.

We sat down and passed the food around. “We used to have big Thanksgiving meals like this,” Cody told me with a grin. “Mom always went all out.”

“And dad was never happy,” Mason added with a chuckle.

Blake grabbed a dinner roll and nodded. “If she said dinner would be served at four, dad was harping at three-thirty.”

“And if she said three,” Cody said, “then dad was sitting at the table by two!”

Mason leaned over at me and said, “That’s where Blake gets his ornery attitude.”

Blake extended his middle finger and flipped Mason off, but he was grinning while he did it.

“Do they live around here?” I asked.

“Moved down to Texas about five years ago,” Mason explained. “Mom got sick of all the snow. Wanted to be somewhere warmer.”

“They raise longhorns.” Blake spread his arms apart as wide as they would go. “Big fuckers with the horns out to here.”

“I don’t know how they keep their heads up,” Cody muttered.

“This turkey’s perfect. Doesn’t need any gravy,” Mason said.

I flashed him a smile. “Why thank you.”

“What about your family?” Cody asked. “You have big Thanksgiving dinners?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “We sometimes cooked a turkey, but it wasn’t a big to-do. My parents aren’t the celebrating kind. Mom said we should be grateful every day, not just once a year.”

“There’s something to that,” Mason said.

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean you can’t celebrate too! I would have loved to do this every year.”

“This is pretty nice,” Blake agreed. “First Thanksgiving we’ve had together in a long time.”

“In two years,” Mason said.

“Ah, yeah. Two years.”

There was sadness in their voices, but only a little bit. The overwhelming feeling was excitement about the future, and hope for what was to come.

I knew because I felt the same way. Sitting at the table, surrounded by the three of them, I felt happy and safe. Even though I had scarcely been here two months, I knew I wanted to do this every year.

I want to stay.

“This is real nice,” Mason said while pouring hard cider into his glass. “Ought to do the same for Christmas.”

“Assumin’ Becca stays,” Cody said with a wink. “Since her contract ends in a couple weeks.”

“If I were on a ranch,” Blake said with a mouth full of turkey, “and three hot-as-fuck women were catering to my every fantasy? Hell, you’d never get me to leave.”

“Let’s not pressure Rebecca,” Mason said judiciously. “There’s plenty of time to decide what to do.”

“I’m seriously considering it,” I said. “I just need to work out the logistics of some stuff back in Great Falls.”

“I don’t know,” Cody said with a sly smile. “If we haven’t convinced you by now, not sure we ever will.”

I smiled back at him. “I can think of some ways you can convince me. Like what we did in the tent in the mountains. Maybe Blake can join in next time.”

Blake shrugged. “Wouldn’t mind sharing you some. Could be fun.”

“Lots of fun,” Cody agreed.

We smiled around the table while eating our Thanksgiving meal.