HC04: Beneath the Green Cheese Moon
by VStarTraveler

Summary: As Christmas approaches some weeks after the events of "Under a Pumpkin Moon," Buck's storytelling is taken a bit too literally, putting precious lives in danger. Will John, Buck, Mano, and the bunkhouse boys be able to save them in time?

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction, written entirely for fun and not for profit. This interpretation of The High Chaparral is entirely my own, and The High Chaparral and all of its various components remain the property of their respective owners.


Prologue:

It was Thanksgiving at High Chaparral Ranch and Victoria was ready.

She and the other women who now called the ranch home had spent parts of the previous two days preparing everything in advance that could be done early, but she was still up a bit before dawn on the morning on which John had agreed to host their annual feast. She went downstairs to find that Violeta was already tending the fire and getting the previously prepared portion of breakfast ready to be warmed.

"Buenos días, Senora Cannon," said the housekeeper. "Happy Thanks-giv-ing," she added, pronouncing the English word carefully.

"And Happy Thanksgiving, to you, too, Violeta."

The woman understood English well after her years of service, but still found some of the foreign words to be somewhat difficult to say correctly. She nodded with a smile in return and slid the large stack of tortillas in a covered, heavy clay dish into the oven to be warmed.

Victoria saw that the big pan of ham slices was already in the oven and the big kettle of oatmeal was just about to start simmering on the stove. "Great job, Violeta. I'm going to step outside to check on our main attraction."

Outside in the summer kitchen she found Roy sitting in a chair tipped back against the wall sound asleep and Joe standing up but yawning strenuously.

"Good morning, Joe."

The younger Butler jumped in surprise. "Mrs. Cannon! Sorry, I didn't hear you come out."

"I wanted to check on our turkeys. Did you have any trouble keeping the fire smoking through the night?"

"No, ma'am. Roy and I took turns and we added the wood right on schedule. These birds ought to be just right by noontime."

Victoria smiled. "Thank you, Joe, and you, too, Roy."

Roy, on hearing Joe say his name, had stirred and stood up, but was yawning even more fiercely than Joe. When he was finally able to shut his mouth, he mumbled, "You're welcome, Mrs. Cannon. After smelling these birds smokin' all night, I can barely wait 'til lunchtime."

Joe nodded in agreement. Since they had volunteered for the night shift, they would be allowed to sleep in through part of the morning and then eat with the family and first group of hands at noonday meal.

Victoria looked in the firebox and saw that it was well stoked, so she said, "Thank you, again. I'll take it from here. You two go get some sleep and we will see you at noon."

Roy took off for the bunkhouse and Joe headed home. Both men were asleep soon thereafter.

~HC~

Later that morning, Victoria went over her list and found that arrangements were proceeding according to plan. She peeked out the door and saw Bobby and Betsy playing on the swing that John had built for them. Uncle Mano was going back and forth between them, pushing them higher in turn.

They'd already come in twice asking when the meal would be ready. She wasn't sure but she suspected that Mano had put them up to it.

There would actually be two meals, with the first for the family, guests, and some of the boys at noon. The hands who ate at the early meal would relieve those on the south range or be assigned to other tasks a little later in the afternoon, and those relieved would be seated at the second meal at dinner time. Despite the advance preparations, there would still be a lot to do between the meals.

Checking the clock, Victoria knew it was approaching time for their guests to arrive, so she carefully stepped down the narrow stair to the cellar buried below the kitchen to get the final cooled ingredients needed for the meal.

She opened the door and felt the deliciously cool air on her face.

Having grown up in Sonora and having lived in Arizona for so many years, she was quite used to the heat but it was still always such a refreshing feeling to open that door and feel the sudden caress of cool air in the room. She stepped in and hastily closed the door, not wanting to allow the still formidable November heat from upstairs to warm the room more than was absolutely necessary.

Inside the cellar, she gathered the butter and other items she needed, placing them in the basket by the door. With almost everything collected, she approached the last item.

It was circular, about 12-inches in diameter, and about 3-inches high. It was tannish in color, but the surface was waxy to the touch. She picked it up and carried it to the table where she drew a large knife from its slot. Positioning it across to the center of the circle, she applied the heel of her left hand to the back of the blade and pushed down gently with both hands. The knife slide through the wheel until it touched the table. She repeated this on the other side, separating the wheel into two equal halves.

Victoria withdrew the knife and then carefully peeled away a layer of wax from one half of the wheel. She then folded it over the now exposed face of the other half, which was then wrapped in a stiff cloth and placed it back on the shelf.

Her cuts had revealed an orangish-yellow interior of the wheel and she looked at it with a smile.

Cheese!

It was one of her favorite treats but one which had been frequently missing for a number of years due to it rarely being available in Tucson. The arrival of the railroad and the steadier source of supplies had changed that so now a new wheel of cheese came to the ranch with almost every resupply trip.

She was about to put it in the basket with the rest of the items but it looked so tasty, so tempting.

Glancing at the door as if expecting a visitor but hoping against hope that they wouldn't arrive, she grinned to herself as she cut off a little sliver and slowly slid it in her mouth, placing it atop her tongue.

She wasn't sure if it was the cool temperature in the cellar or the taste of that delicacy that gave her a brief shiver as she slowly enjoyed that little slice of golden goodness.

Glorious cheese!

She ever so briefly considered taking just one more slice, but mealtime was approaching and her guests would be arriving soon, so she placed the half-wheel in her basket and headed back upstairs after relatching the door.

It was, after all, Thanksgiving, and cheese was just one more thing for which she had to be thankful in her life.

~HC~

Author's Note: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Wishing everyone a blessed day, whether you celebrate the holiday or not. Hope you'll take a moment to think about those special people or things in your life for which you are thankful. If they're people, please consider letting them know.

This story will unfold in several chapters between now and Christmas (if all goes as planned!). I encourage readers to leave reviews and comments to let me know your thoughts on the story. Follows and favorites (if deserving) are welcomed, too!

Finally, my apologies to the National Dairy Board for borrowing a bit from their 1980s commercial. I've been humming their commercial periodically ever since coming up with this idea. Of course, they borrowed and tweaked it a bit from "Oliver," so who's to say that Victoria couldn't have thought in those terms herself? ;-)

Thanks,

VST