A Cowboy Thanksgiving
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Melinda Curtis
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PROLOGUE
THERE WERE TIMES when twelve-year-old Beauregard Franklin Monroe felt like he was on top of the world.
This wasn’t one of those times.
It was Thanksgiving week, a time when the Monroes gathered. A time when the younger generation competed in the Monroe Holiday Challenge—a five day event that culminated on Thanksgiving morning, followed by the crowning of this year’s winner.
And this year’s loser.
Sadly, for some unknown reason, Bo was often the year’s biggest loser.
How could that be? Bo was athletic and large for his age. Everyone competing, except for his brother Holden, was younger than he was. He blamed it on his continuing growth spurts and clumsiness, a weak excuse at best.
But here it was. Thanksgiving morning. The last day of competition before the grand feast. And there was only one Monroe beneath Bo on the leaderboard—his cousin Sophie. Something had to change.
Before he’d eaten breakfast, Bo had taken time to write in the small notebook his Grandpa Harlan had given him.
Run fast. Play hard. Pick myself up when I fall.
The notebook was a secret between his grandfather and himself. A way to be your own cheerleader, Grandpa Harlan had said. To create the life you want, he’d said. To get where you want to be.
Right now, Bo wanted to do better in the holiday challenge.
“What are we doing today, Grandpa?” Bo shouldered his way to the front of the pack, ahead of his two siblings and nine cousins. The sun was out in Philadelphia, but the cold air chilled his fingers and nose.
“There are six pumpkins hidden in the woods.” Grandpa Harlan addressed all his Monroe grandchildren. “Each pumpkin you find and bring back earns you a point. One pumpkin has a leaf drawn on it. That one earns you two points. Got it? And...go!”
Bo didn’t linger. He bolted into the woods. But he wasn’t fast enough to leave the pack behind. Holden tripped him. Cousin Shane elbowed him when he stumbled. Cousin Olivia knocked his cowboy hat off as he righted himself. And in the process, Bo careened into Cousin Sophie, who fell. Twin cousins Laurel and Ashley stopped to help her.
Bo ran on.
Finally, I won’t be last.
Bo thrashed through the underbrush and tripped, falling on a pumpkin the size of a basketball hidden beneath the branches of a bush. Finally, his two left feet were good for something. And... Holy cow! This pumpkin had a leaf drawn on it with black marker. Two points! He wrapped his arms around the orange prize and stumbled back to Grandpa Harlan. If he hurried, he could return to the woods and try to find another.
His grandfather knelt next to Sophie, examining her scrapes, which were bleeding a little. Laurel and Ashley hovered nearby, sending Bo dirty looks.
Bo placed the pumpkin at their feet. “I found one.” He danced around as if he’d just scored a league-winning touchdown. “I found one! I’m not last. I’m not going to get another loser trophy.”
“Stop right there.” Grandpa Harlan straightened and put a hand on Bo’s shoulder. “You knocked Sophie down.” His tone of voice didn’t ring with approval.
Bo hurried to defend himself. “The only reason I bumped into Sophie was because Olivia pushed me.” He tipped his cowboy hat back, tugged down his sweatshirt and tried to smile innocently. His mother always said his charm and good looks got him out of trouble at school. She considered them mixed blessings. But with a combined total of eleven siblings and cousins, Bo had to work with what little he had. “It’s not my fault. Blame Olivia.”
“But you didn’t stop to make sure your cousin was okay.” Grandpa Harlan helped a still crying Sophie to her feet. “As the Grand Poo-Bah of the Monroe Holiday Challenge, I hereby award your pumpkin to Sophie.”
Laurel and Ashley cheered.
“But...” Bo’s shoulders slumped. “I would have helped her up if I’d have known that was a rule.” He glanced at Sophie’s scrapes, which looked painful, and those tears of hers, which were real, and felt remorse. “I’m sorry, Soph.”
“I won’t reverse my verdict.” Grandpa Harlan softened his decision by righting Bo’s cowboy hat. “I hope this is a lesson you take to heart, Bo. No matter what else goes on, people always come first.”
Take it to heart? He’d never forget this feeling of letting Sophie down and being a failure.
Five of the competitors, including Holden, Shane and Olivia, emerged from the wood, each carrying pumpkins and wearing big smiles that said they hadn’t come in last.
“I’m cursed.” Bo trudged back to the house where he’d receive the biggest loser trophy served with his pumpkin pie. “I hate the Monroe Holiday Challenge. I’m done playing.”
But he knew that was a lie. Because if there was a chance that he wouldn’t come in last in the competition, he was going to take it.
As for the rest of his life?
He was going to try his best never to be last at anything else. Ever.
