Read The Sound of Sleigh Bells Online

Authors: Cindy Woodsmall

The Sound of Sleigh Bells (11 page)

I was eighteen years old, but when I heard sleigh bells, I felt like a hopeful child again. I remember standing in place, absorbing the joy of it. Isn’t it funny how certain things mean so much to us for so little reason? What would make a child want a sleigh ride so badly? Or a nearly grown woman feel such joy at the sound of distant sleigh bells?
As the jingle grew closer, I thought my feet might come off the ground. I truly did. All I wanted was to see the sleigh pass, but when it came into view, it slowed and pulled into our driveway. I wish you could have seen my father’s face as he finally brought me the one thing I’d always wanted for Christmas.
My mother brought a thermos of hot chocolate out to us and an armload of blankets. The sleigh was not due back to the owner until midmorning, and we rode nearly all night, singing carols and talking of the God who provides. We were able to take my younger siblings for a ride after they opened their presents. But the greatest gift was knowing that my Daed loved me enough to care about a silly girl’s childhood Christmas wish.
Under the weight of the last few years, I had forgotten things you have caused me to remember. I’m not sure how, but sadness and guilt have a way of changing a person. You’ve judged me correctly, though I can scarcely see how when we know so little of each other. I do carry a secret. A horried one.
I think you must be right, that just as there are physical injuries that cause permanent injury, so it is with damage to the inner man.
My problem began the day I realized I could not do what I’d promised to do. I wrestled with myself for a while, and then I went to Henry and told him my decision. I was willing to pay the price, but he paid instead, and I shall never be free of that guilt—no more than he can be free of the grave.
I’m healthy in body but still heartbroken in so very many ways. I try to hide that from those who love me—not because I fear their judgment. I have allowed God to judge me already, but I don’t want to hurt them.
I began this letter in great joy, but I end it sobbing like a child. It seems you have the power to stir my heart and my memory with your carving. And loosen my pen with the sincerity of your letter.
If I dare mail this letter, I will be surprised. But I have written my secret. Perhaps vaguely, but it is done.
Beth

 

Jonah eased into a chair. Although he was unsure exactly what she was talking about, her words held the weight of a dozen silos.

“Beth.” As he whispered her name, he couldn’t visualize the woman who’d sat across from him in the gazebo. The two voices, the Beth from the gazebo and the Beth who wrote to him, were very different. No doubt.

He closed his eyes, seeing nothing but blank darkness. He tried to relax and wait on an image to form, like he did when carving, but nothing came to him. Recollections from the time Beth had visited and the things she’d later written to him swirled like drops of oil in water, but no matter how he looked at it, they wouldn’t blend into one person.

The woman in his gazebo said she knew someone who was struggling. It’d be easy to believe this letter was from that person, but would Elizabeth Hertzler have deceived him?

Pulling the card Pete had given him out of his wallet, he thought about calling her. But then guilt covered him. She’d just laid bare her heart, shared the hardest thing of her life to him, and he doubted her?

He glanced at the letter. No, he didn’t doubt the woman who’d written to him. He heard her sincerity as she unveiled her soul. He read the letter again and stumbled over the words “my aunt’s store.”

Her aunt’s store?

It was possible the store she now ran had once belonged to her aunt, but…something left him ill at ease. A call would set things right. He looked at the clock. Just past six. He didn’t know what her store hours were, but if it wasn’t closed already, it would be soon. It’d take him a good twenty minutes to get to Pete’s to use his phone.

Willing to take the chance, he slid into his jacket and hat and headed for the barn. The rain came and went in spurts, but his horse made good time. When he arrived at Pete’s, the store was closed. He knocked and a minute later saw Pete coming out of his office. Pete unlocked the door.

“Hey, Old Man. What happened to your key?”

“I didn’t think to bring it. I need to use your phone.”

“Sure. You know where it is. Care to eat a bite of supper with me when you’re done?”

“Who’s cooking? Me or you?”

“You. Oh, did I mention that I’m glad you stopped by?”

Jonah chuckled and moved to the phone behind the cash register. He dialed the number and waited.

“Hertzlers’ Dry Goods.”

Nothing in the woman’s voice sounded familiar. “Yes, I’m trying to reach Beth Hertzler.”

“You’ve reached her. How can I help you?”

She sounded young and friendly, and he felt rather queasy. “I don’t think you’re the right person. I spoke to the woman I’m trying to reach and…”

“Oh, well, two Elizabeth Hertzlers run this store. I’m one of them, and my aunt is the other. You must’ve spoken to Lizzy, but I’m Beth.”

His mind ran with thoughts, but he urged it to pick up the pace. As dozens of pieces of his encounter with Elizabeth Hertzler shuffled around inside him, he remembered her saying, “You should write to Beth. I mean…Beth, Lizzy, Elizabeth—they’re all forms of my name.”

Suddenly feeling like an idiot, Jonah tried to find his voice. “Lizzy?”

“Yes, that’s my aunt. The store is closed for the night, so she’s not here, but if it’s store business you need her for, I’d be glad to try to help you.”

A sense of betrayal burned through him, but until he got to the bottom of this, he’d not say a word to anyone but Lizzy about it. “Uh, no, I shouldn’t bother you.”

“It’s no bother. I wouldn’t have answered if I wasn’t at my desk. Is there an order you’d like to check on or place?”

Tempted to voice the questions that pounded at him, he resisted. Who did she think she was writing to? “No, but thanks.”

“Can I get your name and number so I can pass the info to Lizzy?”

“No, I’m good. I don’t think I need anything from her after all.”

The woman grew quiet, probably taken aback by the oddness of this conversation.

“Good-bye, Beth.”

“Bye.”

Jonah hung up the phone, feeling like he knew far less now than when he’d arrived.

“Whoa.” Pete scratched his head. “For a man who’s slow to anger, you sure do look riled.”

“You talked to Elizabeth Hertzler face to face, right?”

“Sure did. She’s a bit odd for an Amish woman.”

“Odd how?”

“All businesslike, maybe? I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It’s hard to explain the difference, but I’ve had Amish women come in here my whole life. They tend to be quiet when dealing with men. They ask careful questions, barely hinting at the tougher ones inside them concerning some piece I have that they’re interested in, and when I answer, they always seem to keep their real thoughts to themselves. The one you’re talking about had a polite salesman-type boldness about her. And she didn’t mind questioning my methods as the owner of the store, especially when it came to your carving.”

“What did she look like?”

“Well, it’s been a while, but…I remember she had dark hair. And even though it was August when she was here, her skin was as fair as if it were the middle of winter, so I didn’t reckon she spent much time in a garden.”

“Her age, Pete. How old was she?”

“Oh, well, why didn’t you say so?” He scratched his head again, looking like his memory was being taxed. “Young. A couple years younger than you, maybe more.”

Wavering between anger and confusion, Jonah felt his head pounding. “You’re sure? I mean, she didn’t look a few years older rather than younger?”

“There was no way she was older than you.”

As the woman’s trickery continued to dawn on him, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Anything else?”

“Not that I remember. What’s going on?”

“Not sure, but I can guarantee I don’t like it.”

“Are you going to try to figure it out?”

“I’ll need to think awhile before I know the answer to that.”

 

L
izzy closed the door to the office and phoned Pete’s. She knew the minute Beth told her about the strange conversation she’d had with a man who had their names mixed up that Jonah had figured out what was going on. What had once seemed like an opportunity to help Beth now loomed over her as the utter deceit that it was. She’d tried to reach him on three separate days but hadn’t been successful. During the last call Pete gave her a set time, saying he’d try to have Jonah at the store then.

As the phone rang over and over again, her nervousness made her feel lightheaded. It’d already stolen her sleep over the past few days. She couldn’t blame Jonah for not wanting to talk to her, but if she didn’t connect with him today, she’d get Gloria to take her to his place. If she could’ve gotten away from the store over the last few days, she would have. But regardless if she talked to him today or tomorrow, how would she explain her actions?

Finding it hard to stay on the line, she shivered when someone picked up the receiver.

“Pete’s Antiques.”

She recognized Pete’s voice easily by this point. “This is Lizzy Hertzler. Is Jonah there?”

“He is. Don’t want to be, but I cornered him into it. Hang on, and I’ll go get him.”

Unable to pray, she hoped to find a way to tap into the man’s understanding and forgiveness. While rapping her fingers on the desk, she noticed one of the invitations to the fall hayride.

“This is Jonah.”

The distance in his voice said even more than his unfriendly greeting.

“Uh, this is Elizabeth Hertzler. Lizzy.”

He said nothing. If she could just speak with him face to face, she could find the right words to make him understand. She hated the phone. It just wasn’t the right way to communicate heartfelt emotions.

“I know you’re angry, and you have a right to be, but I really need us to sit down together and talk. I’m sure you’re wondering why I did what I did. And I’ll explain everything but not on the phone. I have a fall hayride each year. Single young people from all over come for that. Why don’t you—”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

Lizzy’s heart sank. She couldn’t blame Jonah. She fought against tears and managed to find her voice again. “I know I wasn’t honest, and you’re right to be angry.” She grabbed a tissue off Beth’s desk and tried to hide the sounds of her crying from him.

“However funny you’ve found this game of yours, it’s not.”

“Please don’t think anyone’s been laughing at you. My reasons are complicated, and I—”

“So,” Jonah interrupted, “who all knows about this hoax?”

“Me and Omar. He’s a close friend and our bishop, and he’s had deep concerns about my actions from the start. But for too long I’ve looked in Beth’s eyes and seen nothing but pain, like staring at a wounded doe. I’ve been desperate to find some way to help her. Then she came home from her buying trip this summer with your carving. Excitement radiated from her eyes and voice for the first time in more than a year, and all she wanted was to get permission to carry your work in our shop or be allowed to market it to Englischer shops.”

“And just who does she think she’s writing?”

“You. Only a very old you.”

“So you led her to believe she’s writing to my grandfather.”

“Well, no, not exactly. Pete called you Old Man, and that’s who she thinks you are. I told her the truth—that you’ve never married and you live by yourself. She thinks you’re a lonely old man. Your work reaches into her and stirs life. You can’t imagine what that spark of excitement in her did to me. I didn’t set out to trick anyone, but when I met you, I knew you could help.”

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t simply tell both of us the truth about the other one.”

“If I’d told you my plan, would you have agreed to write to Beth without revealing who you were?”

“Absolutely not.”

“And if she’d known you were a young, single man, I would have met resistance with the strength of ten oxen. She wouldn’t have read your letters or written to you.”

“Why?”

The office door opened, and Beth walked in. Lizzy covered the receiver. She had hoped for some privacy while Beth was too busy with customers to take any real notice.

Lizzy lowered the phone from her ear. “I’ll just be another minute.”

“No problem. Mr. Jenkins is here, and I need his invoice.” She pointed to the phone and went to the file cabinet. “No need to keep the person waiting.”

Unwilling to reveal her secret to Beth or to let go of this chance, Lizzy held the phone to her ear. “Please come to the hayride event. It’s this Saturday night. We’re having a dinner at five and an evening of hayrides, bonfires, and fun. People start showing up right after lunchtime. A lot of the young people will stay with me until Sunday afternoon, some until Monday. You’re more than welcome to stay however long you wish.”

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