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Danny Sinclair and the Best Christmas Tree, Ever
Danny Sinclair and the Best Christmas Tree, Ever
Danny Sinclair and the Best Christmas Tree, Ever
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Danny Sinclair and the Best Christmas Tree, Ever

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Set in the Blue Ridge Mountains on Christmas Eve, Danny Sinclair climbs Beckners Mountain looking for the perfect Christmas Tree. Along the way he finds there’s more to some people than meets the eye, and more than what other folks say about them. He also discovers that Christmas is as much a time for receiving gifts as giving them, and that the best gifts come from the heart

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJames Bowling
Release dateOct 30, 2012
ISBN9781301717712
Danny Sinclair and the Best Christmas Tree, Ever

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    Book preview

    Danny Sinclair and the Best Christmas Tree, Ever - James Bowling

    Danny Sinclair and the Best Christmas Tree, Ever

    By Jimmy Bowling

    Copyright 2012 Jimmy Bowling

    Smashwords Edition

    License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not e re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your sue only, then please return to Smashword.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    * * * *

    Chapter 1

    DannEEE! Grandma's voice filled the house. It rattled the loose pane in the kitchen window, bounced off the plaster walls in the front room, and reached into the darkest corners of the two back bedrooms.

    Danny SINclair! Her voice shot down the short hallway beside the pantry and pierced the paneled bathroom door.

    DAAnny! Grandma's voice rang in Danny's ears. Rang like the morning bell at Valley Springs Middle School. It was a voice that Danny could not long ignore.

    Danny shoved the box he was wrapping into the dirty clothes hamper beside the sink. He searched the linoleum floor, looking for stray scraps of colored paper. The box held Grandma's Christmas present, a brand new, store-bought apron and matching dishtowel set that he'd paid for with his chore money. He'd rather have wrapped it elsewhere, but the bathroom was the only room in the house with a hook on the door he could lock from the inside.

    When he had everything safely hidden away, Danny unhooked the door and hurried down the hall. Here I am, Grandma! The warm air of Grandma's Christmas cooking filled the kitchen. Danny breathed the mingled smells of hickory smoke, baked pies and roasting turkey. You want something?

    I wondered if you'd fallen in, Grandma said. The sharp edge in Grandma's voice warned Danny of her sour mood.

    Grandma stood at the kitchen sideboard. She leaned a little to one side, making her good hip carry most of her weight. She sorted through sealed mason jars filled with damson and strawberry preserves and apple butter. A half-dozen church Christmas baskets crowded the kitchen table. Each overflowed with good things to eat - - jars of jelly, cans of soup, fresh fruits, nuts and cellophane wrapped hard candies. Sprigs of cedar and holly, tied with red ribbon, decorated the basket handles. On the stove her pressure cooker hissed and spat. A pan of brown gravy bubbled near to overflowing. The kitchen window steamed from her work.

    Did you flush? Grandma asked sharply.

    Danny heaved a sigh.

    Did you get the decorations down from the attic, like I asked you to do? Grandma went on, not waiting for Danny's answer to her first question.

    Yes'm, Danny said, glad not to have to answer it. I got them stacked in the corner of the front room. All three boxes, like you asked.

    Grandma wrapped a jar of apple butter in a piece of old newspaper and shoved it into a cardboard box. Then go and get the Christmas tree stand from the woodshed, she said. Whilst I finish packing these-here jars.

    Danny headed for the back door. His spirits lifted at the prospect of getting out of the house. Grandma could get downright ornery when she rushed about and her bad hip pained her, as it had today. It was best to stay out of her way, at such times.

    And then you get yourself right back in here, Grandma added quickly. I still got chores I want you to do. So don't you linger too long a spell outside.

    Danny's spirits fell again. Don't you want me to go and cut the tree, now? he asked, hopefully.

    Later, Grandma said. You can cut that cedar down by my strawberry patch. The one that shades the corner of the garden. But first I need you to run these jars down the Mountain. I got a jar of each of my preserves and apple butter for Ms. Parkhill, and a jar of each for Ms. Mackinzie.

    That all?

    Grandma turned from her work and looked at Danny over the tops of her wire rimmed glasses. You got somewheres else you need to be?

    No ma'am. Nowhere in particular. I was just thinking, maybe, I'd visit with Lunnie a little bit, when I get to the Parkhill,s. It being Christmas Eve, and all.

    Grandma turned back to her packing. Well, I'm afraid you can't today.

    Why not today?

    Because it is Christmas Eve, and we still got us a lot of work to do, before tomorrow comes.

    Danny bit back his disappointment. The whole week before Christmas had been used up doing chores. Chores and more chores. Christmas Eve might be a proper time to visit friends and neighbors, Danny said, giving words to his feelings.

    Grandma paused in the middle of her packing. It is, she agreed. I'll grant you that, son. Still, we got to finish the baskets and get them down to the Church. And then we got to clean this house. I'll not have a filthy house on Christmas Day. Not with your Uncle Ray coming over for his Christmas dinner. That's why you can't linger at the Parkhill's. So you just deliver these-here jars, and then get yourself right back home.

    Danny looked at the baskets that covered the table. He thought about all the time and work Grandma had spent getting them ready and how she'd called on him to help her. Seems to me, Grandma, you bit off too much to chew on, this Christmas.

    And what's that supposed to mean?

    Danny shrugged. Maybe you ought not of volunteered us to do all the baskets this year. What with everything else we go to do.

    Grandma crammed a wad of newspaper into the box, to tighten the jars and keep them from banging together. "Well, if we don't do them, then you tell

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