Gobble Gobble: A Tale of Thanksgiving Terror HTML version

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
It was a brilliant day. The green rolling pasture seemed to stretch into heaven itself as it
embraced the wide blue sky in the distant horizon. Bertha, with basket in hand, took in a deep
breath of sonorous content as she approached the wooden rail fence. Jim had noticed her
approach and was now casually resting against the fence with his big cowboy boot on the bottom
rail, and his elbows on the top. He was the quintessential cowboy, from his brimmed hat and
checkered shirt down to his snakeskin boots, wrangler jeans, and oversized oval belt buckle. He
was patiently waiting while chewing on a straw.
Bertha pulled her eyes away from Jim as she felt that shiver. That now familiar pang she felt
every time she met up with the younger man but never dared admit. How could she? Not only
was she five years older than the thirty-five year old Jim, she was a married woman who loved her
husband dearly. She shook off the feeling, but still swung her right arm through her charcoal black