A Cowboy Thanksgiving by Melinda Curtis

Author:Melinda Curtis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2022-06-09T15:29:17+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“WELCOME TO THE scarecrow making competition.” Holden was getting into the swing of being emcee. He held up both arms by way of greeting.

Bo stood with Maxine, Luna and the other Monroes. It was Monday morning, Day Two of the competition, and the teams were assembled in the breezeway of the Bucking Bull’s barn. A couple of hay bales had been brought down from the loft to use as stuffing and they’d all been given leather work gloves.

Bo hadn’t seen much of Maxine or Luna that morning. He’d been working on making the shed into an operational sleigh workshop, running extension cords from the barn and tracking down tools he’d need, along with a heater.

“Thanks to Gertie, Odette and Flip, our notable seamstresses, for making the scarecrows.” Holden held one up.

The scarecrow had a head made out of a burlap sack with friendly features sewn on its face—triangular eyes, a button nose, a broad smile. The burlap sack was stitched to the collar of a long sleeve shirt, the tails of which in turn were sewn to the waistband of a pair of blue jeans.

“Cute,” Maxine said.

Bo supposed the stuffed scarecrows would look interesting decorating a porch or a field next spring.

Holden handed his example scarecrow to Adam. “Each team will stuff the scarecrow with straw, button up the chest and tie its wrists and ankles closed. When your scarecrow is finished, you’ll hang him on the horseshoe outside of a stall. Any stall. But listen up. This is important. Although anyone can button up a scarecrow’s shirt, the youngest person on your team must do all the stuffing. One adult can hand their stuffer straw but can’t put it inside the scarecrow. If anyone is caught cheating, they’ll need to remove four handfuls of straw.”

A few Monroes griped about the harsh punishment, but Bo thought it was fair.

He and his team walked to their stuffing station.

“You know what to do, right, Luna?” Maxine picked up a handful of straw and pretended to stuff it inside the scarecrow’s unbuttoned shirt and then down a pants leg. “It’s just like when you stuff your dirty clothes in the laundry bag back home.”

“What a great way of putting it.” Bo gave one of Luna’s curling pigtails a gentle tug. “It’s just you and me this time.” He and Maxine had come to an agreement on their strategy a few minutes ago. She’d wanted to compete with her daughter but he wanted to redeem himself. “If you work fast, you can beat all your cowboy friends.”

“What about her?” Luna pointed to Gabby, who was the oldest of the child competitors at twelve.

“Gabby?” Bo scoffed. “You’re going to leave her in the dust.”

“You wish.” Gabby tossed her strawberry blond hair over one shoulder. She may only be a Monroe by her father’s marriage, but the tween had the Monroe swagger down.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to feed Luna handfuls of hay?” Maxine’s brow was lined with worry.

“Look.” Bo held up one hand, fingers splayed.

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