The Sound of Sleigh Bells (2 page)

The grandfather clock chimed the half hour, startling Lizzy, but no one spoke. Long shadows filled the room, and she lit a kerosene lamp and set it in the middle of the table.

Whatever happened the night Henry died consumed Beth. When Lizzy arrived on the scene, her niece didn’t even acknowledge her. The only words Beth spoke were the ones she whispered for days—
God, forgive me
. Lizzy had tried to talk to her about it, but Beth never broke her polite silence on the topic.

Beth’s Daed cleared his throat. “I’ll wait all night for an answer if I need to, Beth.”

Her eyes filled with tears, but it was another five minutes before she uttered a word. “I don’t trust my feelings about…certain things anymore, Daed.”

“Then can you trust mine?” her Daed asked.

“Always, but I don’t want to be one of the single girls looking for a husband. Not ever again. Is that such a horrible thing?”

“It’s not what we’d figured on, but we can adjust.”

Lizzy repositioned her glass of lemonade. During church the singles sat separately from the married couples. Lizzy’s memory of growing too old for the singles and removing herself from them still stung. From that day on she’d carried the title of
alt Maedel
—old maid. She’d been older than Beth’s twenty-six years, and her prospects of finding someone had faded into nothingness. If Beth thought navigating life after Henry was difficult, Lizzy dreaded the pain that lay ahead for Beth when she openly admitted to the Amish world that she didn’t fit—not with the single folk and not with the married ones.

Stephen had yet to mention anything about the color of mourning Beth still wore. If she would wear something besides black, young men would gravitate to her, and she stood a chance of finding someone.

He covered Beth’s hand with his and bowed his head, silently praying for her. He lifted his head. “There’s somewhere you’d like to be tonight other than washing dishes or working in that stuffy office in the store. Am I right?”

“Ya.”

“Then go.”

Beth kissed her Daed’s cheek, told her Mamm and Lizzy she’d see them later, and left.

Lizzy moved to the window and watched as her niece walked past small groups of young people. She overheard both women and men asking Beth to stay. Beth shook her head, smiled, and waved before making her way across the road and into the pasture near their store.

“You said nothing that will nudge her to change how she’s handling life,” Lizzy said.

Stephen placed his hands on her shoulders. “Henry’s death is the hardest thing this family has faced. Pressuring Beth isn’t the answer. Trusting God is.”

Lizzy stood in silence as Beth harnessed her mare to a carriage. She knew where Beth was going.

The cemetery.

Again. And again. And again.

“Please, dear God, move a mountain for her.”

Stephen squeezed her shoulders. “Amen.”

S
itting inside her small office, Beth could hear the bell above the door softly jingle each time a customer came in or went out of the store. But the stack of paperwork spread out in front of her was a clear reminder that helping to run Hertzlers’ Dry Goods was only a small part of her work.

When dozens of wall clocks chimed the noon hour, Beth jolted. Her day was getting away from her. She grabbed a utility knife and opened the box beside her desk. It’d been delivered that morning and contained stacks of her catalogs from the printer. After pulling one out, she moved the kerosene lamp closer. The heat from the small flame added to late summer’s soaring temperature, but she needed the extra light to view all the details of the ordering magazine. The photos were of almost every item she carried, and they looked fantastic.

Lizzy will love it
.

Beth’s practice in creating a periodical had paid off. A few years back she had gotten special permission from the church leaders to use a camera for the purpose of developing a sales publication. Her first few tries were very clumsy compared to this.

She organized the papers on her desk and shoved some into her satchel. With her itinerary, a catalog, and stacks of order forms in hand, she blew out the kerosene lamp and left her office. As she stepped into the dry goods store, she noticed customers in every aisle, Amish and Englischers. She’d been focused on her trip plans for months, and she finally took a moment to actually see the place. Lizzy ran the day-today operation of the store, and by the looks of it, she was having a particularly good season.

Beth went to the door that led to her living quarters. As she climbed the darkened stairwell, the well-worn steps moaned, and the aroma of old wood filled her senses. It made her wish for time to sit on the steps and just breathe it in. Even after she rounded the first landing of the stairway, she could hear the buzz of customers in the shop below. Some days she didn’t feel Amish at all. She only felt busy and overwhelmed. It took a lot of Englischer-type work to provide middleman services for a multitude of Amish districts, but she loved it.

“Beth?” one of the Petersheim girls called from the foot of the steps.

She stopped climbing and went back down the winding staircase. “Yes, Lillian?”

“Mr. Jenkins is here. He wants to place an order for his store.”

“His appointment was last week, and he missed it. Does he think it’s for today?”

Lillian moved to the first step and closed the door behind her. “No. He apologized for not being here when he should’ve. A family illness kept him away, but he’s in the area today and hoping you’ll let him place an order before you leave on your buying trip. I told him you’re leaving in a couple of hours, but that only made him more determined.”

“Okay, I’ll take his order, but I need to finish packing first. Help him look through the catalog and the display room while he waits, and take really good notes. It’ll speed things along. And please tell him I have to be gone by two o’clock.”

Lillian nodded and left.

Beth turned and headed up the stairway. In spite of her best efforts, which began four months ago, she still had too much to do before leaving. Half a dozen calls had to be made, and she needed to sort through her mail before the driver arrived. Right now she intended to finish packing. It wouldn’t do to leave without plenty of clean clothing. It was hard enough to earn respect among the Englischers as a businesswoman when wearing Amish clothing, let alone dirty Amish attire.

When she stepped into her attic bedroom, she expected a few minutes of solitude. Instead, she found her aunt going through her closet. Lizzy’s youthful face and bustling energy kept her from looking twelve years older than Beth. Her aunt carried a couple more pounds of weight than she had a decade ago, and her dark hair had a few strands of gray, but Beth thought she looked much younger than her actual age of thirty-eight.

Lizzy motioned at the closet and then faced Beth. “Have you discarded every dress you own that isn’t black?”

Beth lowered her eyes and studied the pages in her hand. Black hid things—much like ever-darkening shadows in a deep forest. And as odd as it seemed, black helped her carry things too.

Secret things.

She tapped the itinerary. “If I’m careful to stick to the schedule, before my three weeks are up, I’ll be able to visit every Amish and Englischer store that we do business with—furniture, quilt, dolls, crafts—you name it. I have an appointment to see each owner, buyer, or manager we’re connected to in Pennsylvania and Ohio.” She held out the updated catalog.

“It arrived!” Lizzy stepped away from the closet and took the publication.

“I told you it was scheduled to get here this morning.”

Her aunt’s dark brown eyes reflected awe as she looked at each page. “Wow, Beth, this is the best one yet.”

“The community has waited a long time for me to resume traveling, and I intend for this trip to be very successful.” After setting the rest of the papers on her nightstand, Beth stepped around her aunt. She grabbed several dresses from her closet and tossed them onto the bed.

Lizzy removed the hangers and folded each dress. “Beth, honey…”

Beth swallowed, her mind racing with ideas of how to avoid the impending conversation—the one her aunt had started trying to have a few days ago. “Mr. Jenkins is waiting for me downstairs, and I have phone calls to make before Gloria arrives. Can you finish packing for me?”

Her aunt’s frame slumped so slightly Beth doubted if Lizzy even knew it’d happened. After emptying a drawer of her dresser, Beth shoved the stockings and underwear into the traveling bag.

“Ya.” Lizzy’s brown eyes met Beth’s, and her aunt smiled. “I know you wish you could change the past, but you have to let it go, Bethie.”

Beth had no doubt her aunt thought she knew what dark cloud hung over her. But she was wrong.

Beth grabbed the papers from the nightstand and gave Lizzy a quick hug. “Don’t start trying to mollycoddle me again. I think we can all agree that at twenty-six I’m a big girl now.”

“And I’m thirty-eight, but that doesn’t keep me from needing to hear what other people have to say.”

“I’ve heard you, Lizzy. You’re concerned, but you’re not hearing me. I’m fine.” She kissed her aunt. “Now help me with my list so I can get out the door on time.”

Her aunt nodded. “I’ll finish packing for you.”

“Denki.” Beth scurried downstairs.

Hoping to stay hidden so Lizzy couldn’t start another difficult conversation, Beth gratefully donated the next hour of her life to helping Mr. Jenkins place an order, then made the necessary phone calls. After sorting her business mail, she was down to her last task—finding where she’d laid her personal mail. She’d seen it sometime last week, although she wasn’t sure what day.

She stepped out of her office. “Hey, Lillian?”

Lillian looked up from the cash register, where she was checking out a customer.

“Have you seen a stack of six or seven letters with a rubber band around it?”

Lizzy came out of the storage room, reached under a nearby counter, and smiled as she waved the envelopes in the air. “I wondered when you’d miss them.”

Beth moved toward her aunt. “I realized they were missing this morning. I hope to answer them while traveling.”

Lizzy pressed the letters against her chest, clearly not ready to give them up. “Gloria arrived. She’s loading your luggage and the box of magazines now and needed a few minutes to reorganize her van. Did you verify your reservations for tonight?”

“Yes, my dear aunt. You trained me well.”

Lizzy held out the small bundle of letters. “If these were business related, you’d have kept up with them.”

Beth loved her aunt like a sister and usually got along with her, but clearly they needed a break from each other. For the last six months, it had felt like they were two old maids bickering back and forth. Lizzy was sure she knew how to direct Beth’s life, and Beth was sure she didn’t.

Beth simply nodded as she took the letters. Some were from relatives who lived outside Apple Ridge, and some were from friends she’d met over the years during her annual or semiannual buying-selling trips.

With the rest of her paperwork inside her black canvas satchel, she looped her arm through Lizzy’s and led her through the aisles, around customers, and to the door of the shop.

When they stepped onto the porch, Lizzy wrapped one arm around Beth’s waist. “You’ll be careful, right?”

Beth pulled her into a hug, holding her for a long spell. “You drive me nuts, but I do believe I love you more than any niece has ever loved an aunt.”

Lizzy took a deep breath that spoke of tears. “Are you sure you’re up to this trip?” She put a bit of space between them. “It’s hard to be away from family that long, and you’ll spend more time with Englischers than with Amish.”

“Months of planning and you ask me this now?”

In spite of August’s heat, Lizzy’s hands felt cool against her cheeks. “It’s your first time to go since Henry…”

Why did her aunt insist on stating the obvious? “I know that. I’m fine. I’ll always be fine, if for no other reason than to keep you from taking over my life and trying to run it for me. Do we need to tattoo the words ‘Beth’s fine’ on the back of your hand?”

“A tattoo?” The male voice behind Beth was clearly that of Omar, their bishop.

She turned to see his smiling face. His gruff-sounding question didn’t hide the amusement reflected in his eyes. Lizzy’s face flushed a bit as she straightened her apron. Beth swallowed, never quite sure if he was teasing or nicely sharing his opinion.

His eyes stayed on her aunt for several long seconds, giving Beth a few moments to find her voice. “Uh…well…”

The bishop laughed. “It isn’t a completely bad idea if it would get
somebody
we know to stop worrying so much.” His eyes and smile moved to Beth. “But I think it will take more than the ink in a tattoo to do that.” He gestured toward the van. “It looks like you’re about ready to leave.”

His sincere smile should warm her. It used to. But now whenever she was around Omar, her guilt pressed in heaviest of all—maybe because as bishop he might see into her, or maybe because he was Henry’s uncle. Sometimes she was sure he knew her secret.