The table was groaning with the weight of food, and it hadn’t all been set out yet. Barry was exhausted. He and Bess had been cooking since first light. There was so much to this Thanksgiving meal thing, it was way more involved than Christmas Day dinner back in England, and Barry had thought that an over-extravagance.
“What are you all waiting for?” Barry asked, aiming for innocence. “Dig in.”
The eight cowboys looked at each other uncertainly.
“Uh,” Jimmy seemed to have been silently elected as spokesman. “Where’s the turkey?”
“Turkey?” Barry asked. “It isn’t Christmas.”
“Well it’s, uh, traditional to have turkey at Thanksgiving. But you being English you probably wouldn’t have known, so…”
“Bess,” Barry turned to his fellow cook. “Did we leave something in the kitchen?”
To give t
