The Sound of Sleigh Bells (21 page)

She opened her eyes. Through the dark night and white cloud of swirling snow, she saw a horse pulling a black sleigh with an Amish driver.

Is it possible?

Beth blinked.

Jonah
.

Her heart pounded madly. Jonah pulled on the reins and slowed the horse until the sleigh came to a halt. He looked straight at her, and her mind jammed with too many thoughts to process.

His beautiful smile didn’t say nearly as much as his brown eyes. “Merry Christmas.”

Tears brimmed, and she couldn’t find her voice.

“I knew if I kept circling the motel, you’d come outside.” He held out a basket. “My mother sent dinner.”

She moved closer and took the basket. The aroma of a Christmas feast filled her.

“Of course, you’re welcome to come home with me.” He patted the seat beside him. “Or we can stay here and eat…if I’m invited.”

Stay here?

Beth shook her head. “No. I mean, yes. But…but no.”

He laughed.

She drew a deep breath. “You’re invited to stay, but I’d much rather you go. I… I mean…taking me with you, of course. Oh, and Gloria too.”

He leaned forward. “Are you rattled, Beth Hertzler?”

She nodded, and tears warmed her cheeks. Was she dreaming? “How…”

“Lizzy called Pete. I just happened to be there…waiting and wishing you’d call.”

In her mind’s eye she saw children in the sleigh—just for a moment. She heard their laughter, but she couldn’t tell how many of them there were. She saw a white prayer Kapp or two and a couple of black felt hats. In that moment she understood why she’d begun hearing the sleigh bells of her childhood again. For her, it was the sound of hope and love. It rang inside her as she slept, trying to remind her that love was alive and worth whatever it took to hear it when awake. But she couldn’t have started hearing them again without Jonah.

An overnight bag sailed above her head, and Jonah caught it. Gloria took the basket of food from Beth. “I’ll keep this. You go.”

Jonah placed the bag on his far side. “You’re welcome to join us,” he said to Gloria.

“No thanks. I’ll turn in early and hit the main roads first thing tomorrow. I have a feast to hold me over until then. I’ll come back for her on Sunday.” Gloria passed Beth her prayer Kapp and pins. “You enjoy your Christmas.”

Beth hugged her. “I will. Thank you for this, and call Lizzy for me. I’m sure she’s sitting by the phone in the office, waiting to hear what happened.”

“I will.”

Beth climbed into the sleigh. Jonah lifted a blanket, and she slid in beside him. The seat, as well as the blankets, was warm. She looked at Jonah for an explanation. He showed her the power source for the two electric blankets—a converted car battery.

“Pete loaned me the blankets. I had the rest.” He made a clicking sound with his tongue, and the horse moved off, gaining speed.

Within minutes they were beyond all signs of town life. As they glided along the back roads, going up and down the hills that dominated the area, Jonah told her where the sleigh came from and why it was ready for use that night.

He then slowly shared his secret—the pain of resenting his siblings, Amos most of all, as Jonah suffered surgery after surgery. And the horrid, guilt-filled days when he felt like he wouldn’t have saved any of them if given the same situation again.

Beth studied the man beside her, needing to hear every word he shared. “When Henry died, it was easy to forgive him. But how did you get past the pain to deal with your anger and resentment against Amos?”

“Well, time and medicine and family would have eventually helped, but during the worst of it, I caught a glimpse of how Jesus let go of His anger. Just a fraction of a second, mind you, but I saw Him on the cross, looking beyond the people who’d put Him there and to the Father He trusted. It seemed that He didn’t hold the people accountable because He wasn’t looking at them. When in the worst pain, He kept his focus on everything above.”

His words circled inside her, and she snuggled closer. They passed through the small town where Pete’s store was located and continued on toward Jonah’s.

The batteries ran out of energy, and the blankets stopped giving off heat. The wind chill grew bitter. When Beth shivered, Jonah urged the horse to go faster. Soon he pulled into his driveway and headed for his home.

“You’re awfully quiet, Beth. I don’t think you’ve strung two sentences together since I arrived.”

The fields were covered in snow that wouldn’t melt for months yet, but the land underneath would respond to the first signs of spring, and it would become rich with nutrients as the snow slowly melted.

How could she share all that was in her mind and heart?

Jonah stopped the sleigh in front of his house. She caressed his cold cheek with the palm of her hand, wishing he could read her mind.

He studied her. “I won’t forget the gift of you being here for Christmas.” He moved in close, and she was sure he was going to kiss her.

“Jonah!” a man yelled.

She jolted, and Jonah smiled. “It’s just my brother. When it comes to us, he has really bad timing.”

“Will he always?”

“Always?” Removing the blankets, Jonah stood. “Did those words hint of a promise?”

Beth nodded.

He stepped out of the sleigh and helped her down. “Is it too soon to ask?”

She shook her head, and his smile seemed warmer than a hearth at Christmas.

Amos barreled toward them. “I’ll take care of the horse. The womenfolk insisted we clear a path from your cabin to Mammi’s, so you now owe us.”

Beth pulled the woolen scarf tighter around her head, suddenly uncomfortable without her hair pinned up or her prayer Kapp on.

“I’ll pay you guys back. Don’t you worry about that.” The mocking threat on Jonah’s face spoke of his deep friendship with his eldest brother. “Amos, this is Beth Hertzler. I do believe she might be around quite a bit in the future if you don’t scare her off.”

Amos shook her hand, looking like his huge grin might soon give way to tears. Then he poked Jonah. “Me? What about you?”

“Take the horse and go.” Jonah lifted her overnight bag from the sleigh. “I have something I need to ask Beth.”

Amos took the reins. “I started a fire in the fireplace and in the wood stove in your bedroom more than an hour ago. Got coffee started a few minutes ago and lit a lamp in each room.”

“Now that was useful. Thanks.”

Jonah planted the end of his cane firmly into snow. With her overnight bag in one hand and his cane in the other, they went up the steps and into the cabin. The warmth of the room made her body ache from cold, but the place felt like a dreamland.

Jonah held her bag, looking completely at ease. “I’m not sure where you’d rather stay tonight. You’re welcome to sleep here, if you won’t get lonely, or at Mammi’s.”

“Here, if you don’t mind.”

“Here it is. I haven’t stayed at Mammi’s since I was a teen. She’ll enjoy this.” He carried her bag down a hallway.

Beth followed him but stopped long enough to peer into two empty rooms along the way. Neither had one stick of furniture or anything else in them, but they were bedrooms. She was sure of it. One for girls and one for boys. He’d built this house in the hope of having a family.

He stepped into a large bedroom and set her things on the bed. “The wood stove at the foot of the bed will keep it warm all night.”

Looking at the exposed beams, she tugged at the oversize scarf on her head, loosening it, but keeping it on. “This is so gorgeous.”

When he turned to face her, she gazed into his brown eyes, a little uncomfortable at the desire that ran between them.

His face told her he felt the same power. “I’ll check on the coffee while you get settled in.”

As the soft thump of his cane moved across the wooden floor and down the hallway, she longed to hear that sound every day for the rest of her life. Slowly running her hand along the rough-hewn logs of the cabin’s walls, she left the bedroom and headed down the hall. “Jonah?”

He stopped at the end of the hallway.

“This whole place feels like you…I mean, like the carvings”

“Not everyone would think that’s a great thing, you know,” he teased.

“I’d never ask you to leave it.”

“You don’t have to ask. I’ve already decided. Home will be in Pennsylvania.”

“You’re part of a family-owned business.”

“I’ve been mulling that over lately, and now I’ve got my eye on a cousin of mine who for years has made ends meet doing odd jobs. He’s even worked at the mill when we’ve needed help, and I feel certain he’d jump at a chance to work at the lumbermill full-time.”

“But you built this house expecting to always live here.”

He moved closer, and her heart thumped like a dozen racing horses. “I can build another one, and I have no shortage of siblings willing to buy or rent it. Or, if we economize a bit, we could keep it for visits.” He slowly reached for her hair, which cascaded from the loosely worn shawl that covered her head. His eyes moved over her face as he rubbed a lock between his fingers.

Suddenly aware of the quiet, empty home surrounding them, Beth eased back a step.

Jonah cleared his throat. “You should pin yourself together and join me in the living room.”

Her cheeks burned, but she managed a nod. When her hair was in place and her prayer Kapp on, she walked down the hallway.

Jonah held a cup of coffee out to her. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“That sleigh ride…” She lifted the mug from his hand, but it was the man she drank in. “It was beyond all my best dreams.”

“I was leery of driving a sleigh, but it turned out moderately worth it.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

She lowered her eyes and took a sip of her drink. Did he know how much he stirred her—how he reached into the most hidden, dark parts of her soul and brought light and warmth?

He eased the mug from her hands, set it on the countertop, and stepped within an inch of her. “I love you, Beth. Everything I know about you. Everything I don’t know. I love
you.”
He intertwined his fingers with hers. “Will you marry me?”

Feeling a bit dizzy, she nodded. He lowered his face to hers. Within a breath of her, he paused, and then he gently pressed his lips against hers.

Her whole body trembled, and he pulled her into a hug, holding her as if she were a delicately wrapped gift. “You won’t make me wait too long, will you?”

“I’d marry you today if I could.”

He took a step back. “You surprise me, Beth.”

“Me too.”

He smiled that gentle, calm smile of his. And then he kissed her.

There was a loud knock on the door, and Amos hollered, “Coming in.”

Beth’s cheeks burned as she and Jonah put space between them. While Amos shut the front door, she peered up at Jonah and drew a shaky breath. “Pennsylvania, Jonah,” she whispered. “Definitely, Pennsylvania is the place to live.”

Jonah laughed. “That’s what I said. That way your friends can break our windows instead of knocking on our door.”

They laughed.

“Kumm.” Jonah held out his hand. “It’s time you met the rest of my family.”

Sample chapter from
The Christmas Singing

Excerpted from
The Christmas Singing
by Cindy Woodsmall. Copyright © 2011 by Cindy Woodsmall. Excerpted by permission of WaterBrook Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

C
old darkness and the sugary aroma from the cake shop below surrounded Mattie as she slid a solid-colored dress over her head and tied her white apron in place. The Old Order Amish here in Ohio didn’t wear the black aprons—a difference she enjoyed—and only those involved with baking wore the white apron from the waist down. After brushing her hair, she fastened it up properly and donned her prayer
Kapp
. Who needed a light or a mirror to get ready for the day? She’d been wearing similar clothes her whole life, and the Ohio Amish pinned up their hair in much the same way as she had back in Pennsylvania.

Now, cake decorating—that required good lighting and great attention to detail. And her favorite season for making specialty cakes—Christmas—was right around the corner.

Ready to take on a new day, she hurried down the roughhewn steps that led into her shop, lit a kerosene lantern, and pulled on her coat while going out the back door. Before getting to the woodpile, she paused a moment, enjoying Berlin’s lights. Illuminated white bulbs hung like beacons against the dark night. Although she missed her
Mamm
and
Daed
, this was home now, not Pennsylvania.

She scanned the silhouettes and shadows of nearby homes and shops. The golden full moon had a silky glow around it, a ring almost as clear and defined as the moon itself. What would it look like if she designed a cake with a halo?

Eager to make notes, she loaded wood into the crook of her arm and went inside. She dumped the logs in the bin and then stirred the embers in the potbelly stove and added kindling. Before her first customer arrived, she’d have the place toasty warm.