Read Online A New Tradition by Tonya Kappes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tonya Kappes
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office. With the talent and expertise of my dad, he and a couple old co-workers knocked down a couple of walls and transformed the two small apartments into a large one. So getting to work was never a problem.
“ And I don’t mean on the phone. Santa baby, hurry down the chimney tonight .” I gripped the stirring wheel, making sure I had complete control around all the twists and turns of the road. It was much easier to get to the cabin when there wasn’t snow all over the ground. I was sure these roads were never plowed. Or at least they didn’t look like it. I glanced over at Henry, who was now sitting up. He seemed a little nervous. I rubbed down his back. With a sigh I told him, “There won’t be a Santa coming down our chimney.”
Easing around the winding country roads, the trees looked like a painting with their branches outlined in the newly fallen snow. The silence of the day hung in the air. The grey sky was even so beautiful that Thomas Kincaid couldn’t duplicate it.
The closer I got to the cabin, the more excited I became to spend a little time snuggled up to Henry in one of my grandmother’s handmade quilts by a cozy fire, watching my movies and reading a couple of chapters of the new romance book on my Kindle.
“Look there.” I stopped one farm over from the cabin. In the distance, there was a light on in the old Turner cabin. No one has lived there or even been there in over ten years. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know if it was still livable, but the smoke rolling out of the fireplace was a sure sign that someone was in there. “I’ll have to ask dad about that.” I let my foot off the brake, headed on down the fence line and turned onto the gravel road.
We had never bothered to pave it, not only due to the financial cost, but the gravel gives the cabin a more rustic feel. The cabin sits on seven acres off the main road, and the snow covering it made it difficult to stay on course. I did the best I could.
I knew I was halfway there when I came upon the old maple that my dad had nailed a sign to. The sign reads, Shhh…unwinding . And that was exactly what I planned to do.
Unwind for a couple days…so much so that I was going to be cool, calm and collected when I Skyped with Mr. Bassett.
I had a habit of talking to myself in order to make mental notes and reminders.
“Home sweet home. At least for a couple of days.” I was happy to see the carriage light that my mom had bought from Mulberry End’s only antique store was shining bright. Mom did tell me that dad had put a timer on the lights just in case I didn’t make it there before dark.
They know me so well , I thought. On a normal day of work, I didn’t even leave until well after dark. Sometimes the holidays were no different.
The sun glistened off the freshly fallen snow giving the cabin a wonderful spotlight.
“Oh, oh.” My spirits did a little dive south. Realization hit me. Christmas at the cabin sounded fantastic, but I wanted the cabin I was used to. The one that was always decorated for Christmas when I got there. Not the one where my parents went to London, England without decorating the cabin.
“This isn’t going to dampen our Christmas.” I grabbed Henry from the passenger seat and got out of the car. “We are going to decorate. Audrey will have to wait.”
The cabin definitely wasn’t as vibrant without the poinsettias and three-foot Christmas trees that mom decorates the wooden window boxes with. Even the carriage light was a little naked without the big red ribbon. Luckily, I knew where the decorations were.
Grabbing the hidden key, I unlocked the door and went inside. The large open plan fit our family’s needs. It was a kitchen and family room combo with a large stone fireplace built in the middle to help with a little separation. Plus, it helped out with the acoustics of the tall wooden beamed ceiling. To the left of the front door are the stairs that lead up to two small bedrooms, decorated
“ And I don’t mean on the phone. Santa baby, hurry down the chimney tonight .” I gripped the stirring wheel, making sure I had complete control around all the twists and turns of the road. It was much easier to get to the cabin when there wasn’t snow all over the ground. I was sure these roads were never plowed. Or at least they didn’t look like it. I glanced over at Henry, who was now sitting up. He seemed a little nervous. I rubbed down his back. With a sigh I told him, “There won’t be a Santa coming down our chimney.”
Easing around the winding country roads, the trees looked like a painting with their branches outlined in the newly fallen snow. The silence of the day hung in the air. The grey sky was even so beautiful that Thomas Kincaid couldn’t duplicate it.
The closer I got to the cabin, the more excited I became to spend a little time snuggled up to Henry in one of my grandmother’s handmade quilts by a cozy fire, watching my movies and reading a couple of chapters of the new romance book on my Kindle.
“Look there.” I stopped one farm over from the cabin. In the distance, there was a light on in the old Turner cabin. No one has lived there or even been there in over ten years. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know if it was still livable, but the smoke rolling out of the fireplace was a sure sign that someone was in there. “I’ll have to ask dad about that.” I let my foot off the brake, headed on down the fence line and turned onto the gravel road.
We had never bothered to pave it, not only due to the financial cost, but the gravel gives the cabin a more rustic feel. The cabin sits on seven acres off the main road, and the snow covering it made it difficult to stay on course. I did the best I could.
I knew I was halfway there when I came upon the old maple that my dad had nailed a sign to. The sign reads, Shhh…unwinding . And that was exactly what I planned to do.
Unwind for a couple days…so much so that I was going to be cool, calm and collected when I Skyped with Mr. Bassett.
I had a habit of talking to myself in order to make mental notes and reminders.
“Home sweet home. At least for a couple of days.” I was happy to see the carriage light that my mom had bought from Mulberry End’s only antique store was shining bright. Mom did tell me that dad had put a timer on the lights just in case I didn’t make it there before dark.
They know me so well , I thought. On a normal day of work, I didn’t even leave until well after dark. Sometimes the holidays were no different.
The sun glistened off the freshly fallen snow giving the cabin a wonderful spotlight.
“Oh, oh.” My spirits did a little dive south. Realization hit me. Christmas at the cabin sounded fantastic, but I wanted the cabin I was used to. The one that was always decorated for Christmas when I got there. Not the one where my parents went to London, England without decorating the cabin.
“This isn’t going to dampen our Christmas.” I grabbed Henry from the passenger seat and got out of the car. “We are going to decorate. Audrey will have to wait.”
The cabin definitely wasn’t as vibrant without the poinsettias and three-foot Christmas trees that mom decorates the wooden window boxes with. Even the carriage light was a little naked without the big red ribbon. Luckily, I knew where the decorations were.
Grabbing the hidden key, I unlocked the door and went inside. The large open plan fit our family’s needs. It was a kitchen and family room combo with a large stone fireplace built in the middle to help with a little separation. Plus, it helped out with the acoustics of the tall wooden beamed ceiling. To the left of the front door are the stairs that lead up to two small bedrooms, decorated
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