Rockin Around The Mitchell Tree: A Mitchell Family Series Novella (The Mitchell Family Series Book 13) Read online

  By: Jennifer Foor

  A Mitchell Family Series Novella

  Told by:

  Colt Mitchell

  Tyler Mitchell

  Conner Healy

  Jake Mitchell

  Jax, Mitchell

  Joshua Healy

  Copying this title is a crime.

  Don’t be a thief

  A Mitchell-Healy novella

  Copyright © 2016 Jennifer Foor

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Art: Wicked Cool Designs

  This book is a written act of fiction. Any places, characters, or similarities are purely coincidence. If certain places or characters are referenced it is for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book is not allowed to be offered for sale, discounted, or free on any sites by anyone other than JENNIFER FOOR. To reiterate: This book may ONLY be distributed by Jennifer Foor, the owner and Author of this series.

  DOWNLOADING EPUB COPIES IS A FRADULENT ACT.

  Intro:

  Colt sits in the old red recliner he’s specifically hung onto for this particular holiday. It’s become a tradition that after Conner dresses as Santa for all the grandchildren, Colt will tell the story, an altered version of the Night Before Christmas.

  Little wide eyes are staring at him, waiting for him to begin something they’ve all heard each year. They know that when the book reaches it’s last page, Santa is closer to coming.

  As always, each child, even the toddlers have filled up on sweets. They’re fighting the urge to bounce off the walls, but know Grandpa/Uncle Colt won’t tolerate shenanigans. He’s strict, but in a way where the children have learned to respect adults and others. He has a gentle soul, which is something every little one seems to know from the moment he first holds them in his hard working hands.

  His wife Savanna used real family pictures when making the hardback book years ago as a present, when Colt wanted to revise the original story to make it unique for his own family. The one of a kind book holds many years of memories. In the very back are empty pages of photograph slips, so that each year a new family photo can be placed and remembered for generations to come.

  The outside cover is a photograph of the original Mitchell Ranch, the front gate decorated in lavish garland and bows. Poinsettias are situated around the entrance, and topiaries line the way to the main farmhouse where a large nativity scene sits in the center of the circular driveway.

  The family stills goes all out for the holidays, but this will always be the first, the way Colt’s own father celebrated the blessed event, and where the traditions originated from. This is one of those stories.

  Chapter 1

  COLT

  We’ve been celebrating in the barn for years, especially since our homes can no longer fit all the children.

  In the past we’ve taken turns hosting, as our parents did when we were young. It’s tradition that we’re together, and an overpopulated room isn’t about to stop us. That’s why we built the entertainment barn, much like my cousins’ have in North Carolina. The upstairs is full of bunks with four extra bedrooms for the adults who want to stay closer to the children. A lot of times they will double up and use air mattresses to stay together. At night they’ll hang out, or get into a serious game of cards.

  The kids share one huge common space. Us older family members stay in our houses. When my cousins show up, they crash wherever they want. Conner usually takes his wife and stays at the house they grew up in on the ranch. Ty and Miranda sleep at my place. We don’t party as much as we did when we were younger. Age has graced us with the inability to hang out with the younger crew. I don’t mind it too much, because seeing the bright and curious eyes of my grandkids makes life fulfilling. We’ve been very blessed indeed.

  “Simmer down now. You know the rules. I won’t start reading until it’s quiet,” I announce while giving a stern eye to each of the wiggling children in the bunks surrounding me. I can already tell who will give me a hard time about listening. My grandchildren know I’ll correct them, while my great nieces and nephews are a bit more spoiled. Lots of little girls, too chatty and cute to correct without feeling guilty, and boys too rotten to know what to do with them. Besides, it’s Christmas. It’s about forgiving, and being thankful, but mostly appreciating life and the real reason for the season. My families’ faith has gotten us through many hardships. I’ve spent my life being a faithful servant to the Lord. I’ve learned to let the little things go in life because we never know when it’s our time to leave this place.

  I spot my still beautiful wife making her way into the room. She sits down on the side of the chair next to me and offers a smile. “Hey, darlin’. Is everyone else ready?” As soon as I ask I see the room filling up with the rest of the family.

  Ty claps his hands together, taking in the surroundings as he speaks. “Everyone better be quiet, or else the jolly old fat man will leave you piles of coal.”

  “Grandpa, stop it,” Sarah says from her bunk. She’s his oldest granddaughter, and is obviously familiar with his never ending sense of humor. Being almost twelve, she tries hard to voice her opinions and appear like she understands adults. The unknowing little girl still has so much to learn, but a ton of curiosity to guide her along the way. She asked if Santa was real, so we know this will probably be her last year of believing.

  “I’m telling the truth. I got coal a couple times. Ask Uncle Colt.”

  “Is it true, Granddad?” My little grandson, Spencer, Noah’s youngest boy worrisomely questions. He’s seven now, and those little green eyes remind me so much of his father it’s uncanny. Out of all my grandchildren, I think Spence already knows he wants to run the ranch one day. He enjoys spending time with his Daddy out in the fields working with the cattle. It makes me proud to know he’s raising those children the way his mother and I taught him to do.

  I think about Noah now, and how all these children’s parents are busy wrapping and preparing for the big Santa reveal in the morning. While we keep the little ones occupied, they can feel safe knowing the secrets will stay safe for another year.

  Still, with Ty’s inability to ever grow up, I’m stuck reassuring the children that they won’t be getting a stocking full of coal. “Now, now. Don’t believe a word he says. I know for a fact that everyone has been good this year. There won’t be any coal delivered tonight.”

  “Well Lex got in trouble for painting the kittens butts the other day. Do you think Santa knows?” Her twin Olivia responds with her own inquiry.

  I try not to chuckle, but glance at Ty to see him laughing behind his fist. His sons have passed on that gene we all wish would somehow miraculously fade away. They’re so damn ornery they can’t help themselves. We thought Jax having twin girls would give us some peace, but that Lex is a hand full. She cut her sister’s hair off not once, or twice, but three times now. Chopped it so badly it couldn’t be salvaged. She walked around with an almost bald spot last Easter. Her mother, Amber, was devastated. She tried to get her to keep a hat on, but the child was persistent and on the move too much for added accessories. Their little brother Michael is no better. The night before last, upon arriving at the ranch, he managed to tie up a hog and attempt to ride it around. That p
oor animal bucked him up against a fence, knocking half of one of his front teeth off. He tried to blame it on the hog, but the rope around it’s neck was a surefire giveaway. Olivia is more laid back, but not in a good way. She’s sneaky and she loves to tattletale. I shake my head at Olivia. “I don’t think Santa noticed.” If I don’t give them hope they’ll fight about who is getting more, and we really try to keep the gift giving as fair as possible that way no one has their feelings hurt.

  My niece Jade, who is Conner’s granddaughter, raises her hand. “Uncle Colt, last week Bacon started Daddy’s truck and drove it into the fence. Momma said Santa saw it.”

  I clench my jaw. Maybe it was a mistake to try to fool these kids. I’m out numbered. Her brother Joshua Jr., who everyone calls Bacon is a terror. He breaks everything and is extremely hyperactive. When he was little they had to put him in a helmet to keep him from hurting himself. He kept going up to the television and trying to climb it. They went through three that year, all of them breaking when they tumbled on top of the toddler, sending him to the hospital. The last one was actually bolted to the wall. He’s even wearing the helmet in some old photos, because taking it off risked another trip to the ER. Josh and Tamsyn really have their hands full with that one.

  “Jade, we all make bad choices sometimes. I’m sure Santa can overlook your brother’s actions one time.”

  She rolls her eyes. “He’s bad all the time. He doesn’t deserve presents.”

  “Don’t say that,” Sarah corrects her. “My dad says we shouldn’t talk about people.”

  “Well my dad says Bacon acts like an animal and he’s going to put him in the pasture with the cows,” Jade counters.

  I wave my hands around. “Girls, lets try not to worry so much about who has been good or bad. What if y’all get comfy in your beds and listen to the story? It’s getting late, and I wouldn’t want Santa to skip the ranch on account of you still being awake.”

  They quickly settle, and I’m glad, because I was about ready to hand Savanna the book and hightail it out.

  My lovely wife pats me on the shoulder, reminding me to smile even though it’s getting late. “Maybe you should just start.”

  I open the book to the first page and hear the flicker of something coming on. We’ve gotten pretty good at setting this up ahead. It’s an old time projector Ty has set up with classic family videos that begin to play against the wooden framed wall. It’s crooked, not that the kids care. Something else lights up the ceiling. It’s a light that makes it look like it’s snowing from above. The children scan the room for everything going on, as a gentle carol begins to play. Amy stands next to the machine adjusting the volume so my voice can be heard over it.

  I clear my throat, with butterflies of excitement tossing in my belly, and get right to it.

  “T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the barn, not a Mitchell child was stirring, nor a Healy or fire alarm. The stockings are hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St Nicholas soon would be here.

  The ornery kids are nestled quiet in their beds, while visions of getting coal dances in their heads. All the mamma’s are ready, the dads’ full of crap, are settling down for a long winter’s nap.”

  The kids already know what’s coming up. They’re no longer paying attention to the fake snow, or video. All eyes are on me.

  I get into character, playing along with their amusement.

  “When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the chair to see what was the matter.” I jump up and head to the nearby window, peering out as if I spot something. “Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the curtains and searched for the crash.

  The moon shining down on the new-fallen snow gives me a perfect lit view for what sits below. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a giant red sleigh, and eight furry reindeer.

  With a fat old driver, so brave and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St Nick. More rapid than cattle his presents they came, and he whistled, and shouted, and called the deer by name!

  "Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen.”

  I shake my finger. “But don’t forget Rudolph, whose nose shines so bright, guiding them all through the dark of the night! To the top of the roof their hooves marched to his call.” I stomp to make the sounds as I come back to my chair.

  “Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

  Now pointing to the ceiling. “As my eyes proved the truth while seeing Santa fly, he’s right in that sleigh, his guides mounted to the sky. So up to the roof-top as fast as they flew, with the sleigh full of toys, and St Nicholas too.

  And then, in a twinkling, I heard from above, the prancing and pawing of each of their hooves. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.”

  I race over to the railing to look below where the chimney sits.

  ”He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, and he looked so generous, just opening his pack.”

  I turn back to the kids and touch parts of my face while continuing.

  ”His eyes-how they twinkled, his dimples how merry, his cheeks were quite full, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.”

  I pull a fake pipe from my pocket to use a prop. “The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke soon encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly, that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly!

  He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!”

  “Have you ever seen Santa, Uncle Colt?” Little Madison asks.

  I nod. “I reckon I have a few times.”

  “Was he scary?” She wants to know.

  “Not at all, although, I’ve never been close enough to ask him anything.”

  “I bet he’s real nice,” Bacon mentions.

  “Not nice to you,” his sister adds.

  To avoid conflict, I quickly get back into character. “Ho, ho, ho, now listen here, children. The story can’t continue until all the little boys and girls give me their full attention. Be good now, or else you’ll get coal.”

  The kids begin to laugh at me pretending to be a plump old man. I keep at it, playing along to the story. A few are yawning already.

  “A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, soon led me to know I had nothing to dread.

  He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. He offered a smirk then up the chimney he rose!

  He sprang to his sleigh that shot out like a whistle, then away they all flew like the down of a thistle. That final second before he disappeared out of sight, I swear I heard him exclaim, ‘Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!’”

  A couple sniffles fill the room as my eyes course across the space. Nestled together, the children anticipate what’s to come, determined to stay awake because they think they’ll catch Santa piling gifts under the large family tree.

  Savanna stands and claps her hands together. “All right now kids. It’s time for bed.”

  “Grandma, can you leave the snowflake light on like last year?” Christian’s daughter Chloe asks. She’s only four, and very scared of the dark, even though she’s in bed with two of her cousins.

  “Of course. Remember, if Santa hears anyone out of bed he won’t leave presents.”

  “Uncle Colt,” one of Cammie’s sons call. “Can you read it one more time?”

  I look to Savanna and offer a smile. “Yeah, sure, kiddo. This time everyone close your eyes and imagine it in your minds.”

  Savanna leans forward and kisses me on the cheek, leaving her lips near my ear as she whispers. “I’ll see you back at the house, you old stud. I still have some things
to get ready for tomorrow’s breakfast, and then a nice hot bath.”

  “Okay, darlin’. I’ll be right behind you.”

  She smirks while leaving. “I know you will.”

  Chapter 2

  Tyler

  The lights are dimmed. All the spoiled rotten kids are pretending to sleep because they think they'll be able to catch Santa in action. There's a huge grin on my face when Colt appears outside the barn. He already knows what I'm thinking. It's the same every darn year. "They ain't going to bed any time soon."

  I pat him on the shoulder when his stride meets mine. "Not our problem anymore, cuz. Their parents can deal with that."

  "Yeah, they're just being kids. I remember sneaking around Christmas Eve to catch a glimpse of the big man."

  "Yeah, me too. Remember when we tried to drill a hole in the upstairs floor so we could keep watch on the chimney?"

  Colt's chuckle fills the night air. "It would have been fine if Miranda hadn't caught us."

  I agree. "Then of course had to run and tell Conner."

  Colt points at me as he reiterates. "That jealous prick told my father. I swore I was getting that coal. He was pissed. I seriously felt like Christmas would get canceled."

  "You still got that dirt bike."

  "And we wrecked it two days later, remember?"

  It's funny now, but it wasn't back then. "How can I forget? I took the blame, after your story about being chased by hunters didn't pan out. It was a damn blizzard. There was nothing out to hunt."

  "Okay, I see the error of my ways, but that was probably the only time in history where you actually didn't deserve the punishment."

  "What about the time we convinced Conner to ride the sled off the barn roof?"

  My cousin is beside himself with laughter. "I forgot about that. He broke his finger that night."