Free The Christmas Piano Tree: What's Christmas without a tree? (A Kissing Creek novel Book 1) by Jina Bacarr

gotten herself into?
    * * * * *
    Dixon & Wynn’s General Store had been a fixture in Kissing Creek since the days of Daniel Boone, or so the locals said. The big, old log cabin building was two stories high with garlands of silver tinsel strung across the rafters and red licorice sticks hanging like icicles from the shelves. It was the only place on this side of town to get the staples she needed.
    The doughnut samples, however, were as old as the hills, Kristen decided when Mr. Grover, the clerk, gave one to Rachel.
    “It tastes funny, Mommy,” she said, making a face.
    “It’s stale, Mr. Grover,” Kristen said after taking a bite. She handed the powdery doughnut back to him.
    “So?” Mr. Grover said, putting the half-eaten doughnut back on the cake dish. Kristen rolled her eyes. Didn’t the man know about germs? “They’re free samples, ain’t they?”
    “Don’t your customers deserve fresh pastries?” she asked. What this town needed was fresh doughnuts with plenty of sugar and butter and love baked into them, but she resisted the urge to press her point until the sergeant leaned over and whispered in her ear: “ Go for it .” His hot breath made her shiver. She smiled. Why not?
    “Yes,” the clerk admitted, “but—”
    “You could sell homemade pastry instead of these old packaged goods,” she said, pointing to the past “sell by” date on the bag of doughnuts. She turned and saw the sergeant giving her a thumbs up.
    “Business has been slow,” Mr. Grover said, throwing up his hands. His bushy eyebrows stood straight up like two exclamation points.
    “All the more reason to try something new.” Kristen put down a big plastic jar of blue sprinkles on the wooden counter. Who was he kidding ? Business was brisk. They were out of red and green sprinkles. And everything else for the holiday.
    “I don’t reckon—” he began.
    “I’d be happy to drop off free samples of my cookies for your customers to try,” she pushed on, making her decision. She’d start her own bakery business. Then she wouldn’t have anyone looking over her shoulder criticizing her whipping technique or making her cut corners with the butter. She’d bake up the richest, sweetest cookies in the county.
    She sighed. But only if her money lasted.
    She was always so practical, until now. Her courage surprised her, or did it? The cheery look on Jared’s face told her he was impressed with her entrepreneurial spirit. That warmed her even more. She wouldn’t have had the courage to ask Mr. Grover if he hadn’t given her the high sign.
    She pulled out the five dollar bill from Aunt Gertrude’s old sock and laid it on the counter. Turning around, she could see Jared heading for the back of the store to pick up the milk. Torn between pangs of guilt and a warm fuzzy feeling, she let out a sigh. She had to admit it was nice having a man around, helping out with things. A funny tug grabbed at her heart. She’d better not get used to it. The sergeant was here only as long as Christmas Eve.
    Then he’d be gone in a pouf.
    “Okay. I’ll give your baked goods a try,” Mr. Grover agreed after thinking it over. The sour look on Rachel’s face sealed the deal, holding her nose and shaking her head. “And they’d better be good.”
    She smiled. “They will be. The best you’ve ever eaten.” Anything would be an improvement over his stale doughnuts, but she’d never tell him that.
    Kristen picked up her little girl to keep her from putting her sticky fingers in the glass candy jar while Mr. Grover rang up the sprinkles on the old cash register, making the bells ring and delighting Rachel.
    “Mommy, listen, it’s a Christmas angel,” she said, clapping her hands.
    “ Our angel, Rachel,” Kristen said, saying a silent thank you prayer to Aunt Gertrude, and then smiling at Mr. Grover. He didn’t notice the child’s delight. He was paying more attention to the five dollar bill she’d given him.
    He held the paper bill up