Sleigh Bells Ring Read online

  “No. She only knows I was looking for the lost sleigh bell.” He leaned down and kissed her gently, slowly, and affectionately, yet with a longing intimacy. “I wanted you to be the one to tell your mother.”

  Jordyn felt like her heart was going to burst—or melt. His touch was almost unbearable in its tenderness and the look on his face so galvanizing, it sent a tremor through her. When he laced his fingers with hers, a new surge of affection brought a mist of joy to her eyes.

  Even though the snow whipped and swirled around them, Jordyn had never felt so warm and comfortable. This was a Christmas she would never forget.

  And she didn’t want it to end.

  Chapter 22

  Christmas is the day that holds all time together.

  – Alexander Smith

  Christmas Day

  Jordyn knew her mother would probably sleep in a little on Christmas day. Who could blame her? As hard as she’d been working, she’d finally put another year of festivities behind her. But Jordyn could hardly contain herself as she waited in the living room and watched the clock.

  To help pass the time, she stood in front of the towering family Christmas tree, staring at its overflowing branches, and touching one or two of the ornaments lightly. Just a jumble of decorations to most people, but each one held a special memory for Jordyn. A handmade ball covered with glitter from a six-year-old Jordyn here. An intricately designed Christmas bell from her teenage years there.

  Some of the pieces sparked instant memories. Others were stored more deeply, and rose to the surface only after careful consideration.

  When her mother at last walked into the living room and saw Chad pacing in front of the fireplace, she stopped in her tracks.

  “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Dunaway,” he said politely, as if his presence wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

  “Merry Christmas, Chad.” She recovered and walked over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “What are you—”

  “I wanted him here when I showed you what he gave me.” Jordyn pulled the sleigh bells out of the bag and gave them a shake. “Look. Can you believe it?”

  “The sleigh bells.” Mrs. Dunaway looked over at Chad with watery eyes. “It’s beautiful! Now I know why you were asking for the missing one.”

  When she glanced back at Jordyn, she threw her hand over her mouth in surprise. “What’s that?” She pointed to the ring on Jordyn’s finger.

  “Oh, just another gift Chad has been waiting to give me. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  When her mother didn’t say anything, Jordyn reached out with a steadying hand. Her Mom looked so pale, Jordyn thought for a moment she was going to faint. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Mrs. Dunaway shuffled over to the tree, and picked up a small package. “It startled me for a minute, that’s all. But I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Is this for me?” Jordyn took the box and sat down cross-legged on the floor near the tree.

  “I guess it’s actually for both of you,” Mrs. Dunaway said, her voice still full of bewilderment.

  As Jordyn stripped away the ribbon, Mrs. Dunaway continued to talk. “When Chad asked me to look for the missing bell, I remembered that Shawn had engraved one for you...but I never saw it. I had no idea what he’d done with it.”

  Jordyn lifted the lid of the box and pulled away the bright red tissue paper inside.

  “I found that yesterday in the bottom of the closet when I was searching for a bolo tie for Chad to wear to the Gala.” She swiped a quick tear from her eye. “I mean I’ve been in that closet hundreds of times, but I never noticed it before.” Her eyes sought and lingered on a large picture of her husband on the wall beside the tree. “It was right there, lying on the floor in the back. Directly beside the box of bolos.”

  Jordyn gasped when she saw the sleigh bell and Chad’s eyes grew large. “It’s the missing bell, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it’s the missing bell. Merry Christmas—from your mother and your father.”

  A single tear trickled out of Jordyn’s eye as she saw the engraved date. It was the year she’d left Painted Sky ranch to begin her new career. She glanced up and smiled, knowing her father was looking down from Heaven. He had a hand in this miraculous find—and everyone knew it. The essence of him filled this room. The only thing missing was his booming laugh and joyful smile.

  Jordyn handed the bell to Chad so he could take a closer look. When he saw the single word her father had engraved all those years before, she watched his blue eyes turn misty. “How—” He stopped, unable to continue.

  Jordyn wondered the same thing. The gift was the perfect conclusion to their perfect love story...a love story that had not been denied or delayed—but merely, destined.

  Because how could her father have known then that the sleigh bell would remain hidden until now? And how could he have guessed that it would be found on the same day that his daughter became engaged?

  What is it luck? Coincidence?

  Or another Christmas miracle?

  Because the word inscribed on the magical sleigh bell was: Love.

  *****

  Thank you for reading Sleigh Bells Ring! If you have time, please share a review!

  Keep Reading for BONUS MATERIAL! Don’t miss the award-winning novel Lacewood!

  History, mystery, and a love story that spans centuries...

  Two people trying to escape their pasts find a connection through an old house—and fulfill a destiny through the secrets it shares. Part love story, part Civil War ghost story, Lacewood is a timeless novel about trusting in fate, letting go of the past, and believing in things that can’t be seen.

  Do you BELIEVE?

  I hope you enjoyed reading SLEIGH BELLS RING!

  Christmas is a time of wonder, traditions, and special magical moments that I hope I captured in this novel. I had a wonderful time reminiscing about my own childhood, which sparked memories of chestnuts roasting on an open fire and the sounds of Christmas music filling the air.

  If you’re like me and believe in twists of fate, true love, and the magic of Christmas, then you will love a family-owned business. I discovered while writing this novel. Called Magical Bells, the company fashions its sleigh bells after the iconic ‘First Gift of Christmas’ featured in the movie Polar Express. They are faithful in every detail, resulting in beautiful, handcrafted, heirloom-quality bells. (Click here for a 20 percent discount code to use in 2020).

  Gift-giving is only one facet of Christmas, and there are many ways to celebrate the holiday season that don’t involve buying presents. A special family tradition can be as simple as making popcorn garland to hang on the tree, enjoying a mug of hot chocolate on Christmas Eve, or baking and decorating cookies.

  Of course, the best Christmas tradition of all is spending time with the ones we love, while remembering the true reason for the season.

  I hope you and yours have a holiday full of magical moments that will be remembered for years to come!

  Merry Christmas!

  Jessica James

  REVIEWS

  What readers say about Jessica James books...

  “This book is going on my unforgettable shelf.” – Rachel Hilton

  “I've read many fine books on Civil War love stories but none had me as ingrained into their lives as this one. Excellent.” – Kindle Customer

  “I cried at the end and had to keep telling myself, ‘it's just a story, it's just a story.’” – L. Carter

  “The story stayed with me days after completing the book. Highly touching.” – Wanda CC

  “If I could give this book 10 stars I would. You never want to put it down.” – Email Review

  “I'm giving this to my wife to read and know she'll enjoy it as much as I did!” – R. Walton

  “This book has moved EVERY emotion in me, from page one to the end! I've laughed, cried, and often forgotten to breath! EXCELLENT book!” – Review

  “Good enough to hold in my favorites for a reread
down the road of time.” D. Mac

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  BONUS MATERIAL: LACEWOOD

  Chapter 1

  “Recalculating.”

  Katie McCain smacked the steering wheel with both hands and then glared at the navigation screen.

  Renting a car and heading due west into the Virginia countryside seemed like a good idea when she bolted from a ritzy fashion show in Washington, D.C. earlier this afternoon. The charity event she’d been roped into attending had devolved into a made-for-television spectacle courtesy of a few attention-seeking B-list celebrities. The whole debacle rekindled her craving for green grass, open space, and solitude. But with no planning and little thought put into this impulsive excursion, she was now hopelessly lost.

  “What made you think you could find it?” Katie muttered as she admitted to herself this fateful flight involved more than her need to escape the small talk and fake smiles of the Beltway elite. Did you think you could simply stop and ask someone where Esther Bennett lived—twenty years ago?

  Katie shook her head and tried to look at the bright side. The scenery was lovely and the traffic was light. Her agent, thinking she would enjoy another day in DC, scheduled her flight for tomorrow. Even if she didn’t find the old farmhouse where she spent so many happy summers with her grandmother, all was not lost.

  But she was disappointed. Just when the landscape seemed familiar enough to spark flashes of recognition, the narrow road widened into two lanes and houses replaced horses in the fields. Parking lots and pavement fragmented all remnants of the quaint countryside she remembered, and sprawl replaced the scenic views she’d been hoping to reconnect with during her sentimental journey.

  Stopping at a traffic light, Katie glanced to her right and sighed at the size and opulence of the house sitting in the middle of a professionally landscaped yard. The home appeared out of place among the rolling hills, as did the cluster of similar structures lined up in monotonous rows on each side and behind.

  Trees that could have provided both beauty and shade were nowhere in sight. But air conditioning systems, meant to keep the occupants cool and comfortable behind their locked doors, emitted a low-pitched hum loud enough to compete with the drone of idling engines.

  Katie studied the extravagant entrance identifying yet another new development in ostentatious lettering—Fair Hills. She peered past the sign to some newer houses sitting on recently leveled land and winced at the absurdity of the description. Like all the others—Fox Den, Tall Oaks, Deer Run—this community bore the name of something that no longer existed. The fox, the deer, the oaks, and even the hills, had been destroyed, run out, cut down, or leveled in order to make room for the developments that now proudly carried their names.

  For all she knew, Katie’s grandmother’s farm might have fallen victim to the same type of growth and expansion. The century-old house certainly wouldn’t fit into this smug, suburban setting where anything less than brand new was considered outdated and obsolete. The demand for swanky, upscale neighborhoods left no room for history and antiquity. Crooked shutters, sagging porches, and squeaky screen doors would not be welcome here.

  Katie envisioned monstrous bulldozers leveling her grandmother’s home, pushing it into a hole and covering it with sod. Such rituals took place every day, performed without a second thought or a moment’s hesitation...like sweeping dirt under a rug.

  High-pitched static on the radio yanked Katie back to the present. Nothing seemed familiar now. One gently rolling hill followed another on an undulating road that was sometimes paved and sometimes only gravel. Thick forests began and ended abruptly, plunging her into a dark tunnel one moment and blinding her with dazzling sunlight the next.

  Katie continued driving because the views and the countryside kept her spellbound. Horses meandered through belly-deep grass in meadows kindled gold with sunlight or streaked blue with shadow. Clusters of sunny daffodils embroidered the hillside where cattle dozed contentedly beneath ancient trees bursting with buds. A tractor in the distance caught Katie’s eye as it crawled through a brown sea of soil, tilling the earth in even waves that seemed to go on for miles.

  Drawing in a long, deep breath of fragrant spring air, Katie lowered all the windows in the car. She never drove like this in the city, but she reveled in the rush of air blowing through her hair today, and delighted in the pungent, freshly-plowed smell of the earth in the distance. It made her feel young again. Carefree. And it generated a scrapbook of images that unleashed a cloudburst of tears.

  Darn it. There goes my mascara. Katie pushed the memories away and wiped her cheeks, then checked in the visor mirror to see how much damage she’d done. If she ever found someone to ask for directions, she didn’t want to scare them with raccoon eyes.

  Glancing at the clock on her dash, Katie calculated she’d been driving for three hours and had now officially arrived in the middle of nowhere. The navigation program continued to tell her to make a U-turn where none was possible, after instructing her to turn onto roads that didn’t exist. You don’t know where I am any more than I do.

  Annoyed by the unrelenting static on the radio, she turned the volume down, as if silence would help her think. Just as she glanced back up, she noticed a small road sign with big letters: New Hope.

  A town! Maybe she could find a restaurant to grab something to eat—and get directions back to DC. Spurred on by newfound confidence...and a growling stomach, she kept driving. And driving.

  And driving.

  “Did I miss a road or sign?” she wondered out loud. She hadn’t seen a town...not one recognizable as such, anyway. She began to worry that she was getting farther away instead of closer.

  As she rounded another curve, Katie impulsively jerked the wheel hard to her right, thinking she’d discovered a place to turn around—but immediately stopped the car to reconsider.

  The road fell off into a ditch on both her left and her right before disappearing into a narrow, gloomy passageway in front. Her only options were to back out onto the main road, or go forward and hopefully find a place wide enough to do a U-turn.

  She sat with her hands on the wheel, peering into the dense foliage. The ancient trees created a canopy of twisted branches like a mysterious tunnel into another world. The only evidence of civilization was a dilapidated sign with a faded arrow saying FOR SALE.

  No, thank you. The narrow, overgrown lane brought to mind the opening of a horror film. I’m not going to be the woman who takes the road to nowhere and ends up fighting for her life in zombie land.

  Shifting the rental car into reverse, Katie turned her head and began to back up. But no matter how she moved or shifted in her seat, she couldn’t see beyond the blind curve. Although traffic had been sparse, her wild imagination conjured a fully loaded logging truck flying around the bend in the road, totaling her rental car. And her.

  Impatient to get moving, Katie shoved the vehicle into drive and inched forward, intent on finding a place to turn around.

  Bad decision. Rain and neglect had carved deep ruts in the road, and untrimmed branches hung low, scratching the car on both sides. No matter which way she swerved, at least one wheel dropped into a pothole. She rolled up the windows to keep from getting sideswiped by thorny branches, but the limbs scraping the sides of the rental sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard. She turned up the radio again. Loud.

  Glancing down at her phone, Katie considered calling
someone for help. But who? And what would she say? Hello? I’m lost somewhere in Virginia. Can you send help?

  Luckily the road began to widen and then forked off to the right through intermittent beams of sunlight. Relieved, Katie attempted to make a wide turn, and almost hit another FOR SALE marker.

  What could be for sale way back here? Trees and rocks and grass?

  The arrow pointed toward two stone columns marking an entrance of some sort. Only when she started to inch closer did she notice a weathered wooden sign. Vines obscured most of the wrought iron post where it hung, and even this close the lettering was too faded to read.

  When she saw a breeze rustling through the trees, Katie reached over and turned down her radio so she could listen.

  What she heard was a strange, bone-chilling screech as the signboard swayed back and forth on rusty chains. Was this mysterious breeze beckoning her on?

  Or warning her to go no farther?

  Katie glanced around at her surroundings, and for a fleeting moment had the strange sensation she’d been here before. She chuckled at the thought. How could she have been here before when she didn’t even know where she was?

  With her curiosity and her sense of adventure piqued, she edged the car forward, but then slowed to a stop again. Should I?

  She thought about how far she’d come and shrugged. Another few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

  Turning to the right, she proceeded through the stone entranceway and traveled only a short distance before catching a glimpse of blue sky ahead. When she finally broke out of the forest altogether, she hit her brakes so hard she almost bumped her head on the steering wheel.

  The sight before her had to be taken in slowly, and with deep breaths.

  Dogwood trees, fleeced in their finest spring attire, lined the lane as far as she could see, creating a spellbinding view. The trees themselves were stunning, but the lush blanket of blossoms carpeting the road captivated as well. The dramatic contrast between the murky forest behind her and this vibrant view transformed the scene into a magical entranceway to a fairy-tale land.