Sleigh Belle

By N.D. Testa

A silent bell tolls the pain of a broken heart

But a pinch of hope

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole Testa
• Release date: Nov 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798986218939

Book preview

Chapter 1

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What in the hot cocoa conundrum happened here? 

Her grandmother's favorite expression ran through Belle Winter's mind as she looked out the passenger window from the driver seat of her luxury SUV. She was parked along the side of Pine Cone Lane. The faint clicks from the hazard lights were a tolling reminder of how much her life had changed in the past week. Losing her job right before Christmas was bad enough without looking at the barren structure before her. She couldn't believe that it was Frost Manor. 

It looks like this place hasn't been lived in for months, she murmured as she gripped the steering wheel tighter. Where are all the decorations? Where are the lights, the bells, the bows, the wreaths?

Frost Manor was the crown jewel of Falls Village, Vermont. The European-style edifice had been owned for the past hundred years by the Frost Family. They decorated the magnificent structure each year to paint a picture of every Christmas fantasy known to man. People came from all over to admire the beauty of the elegant arches, decked out in festive boughs of holly with twinkling lights sparkling across the roof's edge. The estate sat on a hundred-acre farm that drew in families from miles around to purchase the perfect Christmas tree.

But not this year.

The former owner, Sam Frost, had died in January. Belle had flown in from New York City to attend the funeral and leave. Ten months later, this was the first time she was back in Falls Village. Her mother had told her that Sam's grandson had moved into the house, but based on the appearance of the manor, there was no way it was a relative of Sam’s occupying the residency. 

The fifteen-bedroom mansion that once oozed elegance and glamor didn't have a single light or a wreath anywhere on its stone exterior. The lawn was peppered with half-melted mounds of snow, the bushes were overgrown, and the walkways were covered in icy slush.

Belle opened the car door and walked toward the entrance to the long road beside Frost Manor. To her disappointment, she found iron gates closed with a chain wrapped around them. She sighed and shoved her hands in her pockets.

What was at the end of the path was the reason for her visit. It was a particular handcrafted object filled with magic known as the Christmas Wishing Bell. This magnificent heirloom sat at the entrance to the tree lot next to the fire pit and hot cocoa stand. It was tradition for people on their Christmas ventures to come make a wish and ring the bell. If their hearts were pure and their souls full of compassion, their wish would come true. 

Many area residents testified to the bell's powers, including Belle, even though she had been a little girl the last time she had made a wish. Her past wishes had included getting a puppy, making the lead in the school play, and getting into Columbia University. All those dreams had come true. But now Belle wasn’t looking for something tangible, her wish was more abstract, a desire to know where her life was headed and guidance to know what was the right choice to make. 

Belle groaned and turned on her heel. Can this month get any worse? I lost my job, then I had my friend take over my apartment, and I moved all my stuff into storage. I drove all night to Falls Village, and now I can't even make a wish on the bell?

She stomped her foot on the ground. Ugh. She paused. Why are the gates closed? It's three weeks until Christmas. This place should be bustling with people. Why haven't they opened the lot or decorated the house?  

Belle began the slow trek back through the slush to her SUV, it was then she noticed the neon orange and black signs with No Trespassing written all over them. One was attached to the gate, and others were nailed to nearby trees.

What is going on? She murmured, as she started the engine. She drove the car a few feet forward to the entrance of Frost Manor. While the gates to the Christmas lot had been locked tight, surprisingly, the gates to the estate were open. As Belle pulled into the cobblestone driveway that formed a half circle in front of the mansion, she noticed a Lamborghini SUV parked in front of the five-car garage.

Well, clearly, someone lives here. Belle unfastened her seatbelt, opening the door again to the chilly air. So why hasn't the manor been decorated yet? 

The frigid December air hit her in the face as she stepped out into the dreary atmosphere that surrounded her. She walked past a large fountain that featured a marble statue of a reindeer, the basin filled with murky water.

She continued to the front door. A short octagonal sign near the front steps alerted her that the house was monitored by high security. She stepped onto the stoop and saw the doorbell camera next to the front door. A press of the button gained no response. After pressing it again, she wrapped her fingers around the lion-shaped door knocker and brought the handle down for three loud raps.

Not even a wreath. Belle shook her head as she stared at the bare door. She shivered as the cold air weaved its way into her bones. 

No one answered.

Belle pressed the button again. Maybe her half-frozen fingers hadn't gotten it right the first time.

Still no answer.

Maybe he isn’t home.

Belle caught her reflection in the tempered glass of the door. Her brunette curls spilled past her shoulders and her brown eyes were filled with worry at the state of her favorite place. Her nose and cheeks were red as the frosty wind kissed her skin.

She decided to try one more time. She needed answers. 

Finally, a cracking sound came from the intercom, followed by a man's gruff and irritated voice. No solicitors allowed.

I'm not trying to sell you anything – Belle tried to answer his abrupt bellow in a polite voice.

Can't you read? he interrupted. There are signs all over the place stating no visitors, no solicitors, and no trespassing. This is private property. 

I don't mean to be a bother, she said, trying to hide her apprehension and shock at his harshness. I need to ask the owner a question.

I don’t wish to be disturbed! If anything, his response was even angrier.

Belle rubbed her frigid fingers together. You don't understand. My grandma and I were good friends with Sam Frost. He was family to us. When I was little, we came here to the manor to tend to his rose bushes almost every day until I went off to college. Belle looked down at her shoes, her mind flooded with some of her favorite memories. I went to school in New York to study art. Then I got a job at an art gallery and spent a decade pouring my sweat, blood, and tears into my profession. I was hoping to come to the Christmas tree lot and make a wish on the Wishing Bell. Her voice trailed off as she remembered she was talking to a speaker. She pulled her coat tighter around her body, she had become lost in her own memories.  

Lady, if I cared about your life, I would have asked. Who the hell do you think you are coming to my residence and giving me a sob story? I don't care. Learn to read. No visitors. 

Don't talk to me like that! she snapped. Irritation pulsed in her veins. Why isn't Frost Manor decorated? Why isn't the Christmas Tree lot open? Where is the Wishing Bell? 

The Wishing Bell is a superstition full of false hope. His sneering tone flushed Belle's cheeks red with anger as he mocked one of her favorite memories. All it amounts to is a bunch of horrendous traffic bringing tourists who come once a year to a town they have never heard of to ring a bell and pray for some childish Christmas fantasy that will never come true! Look at you coming all this way to my house to ask why I don't have a bell available for you to ring and make a stupid wish?

Belle was speechless. How had Sam left this heartless man in charge of his most beloved possession?

Isn't it obvious? There is not going to be a Christmas at Frost Manor. No one will be getting trees from the lots, and no one will be ringing a silly bell. Now, I don't care if you knew my grandfather. I'm the owner of this house, and you will leave before I call the police. 

But –

Leave! You're on security footage. You're trespassing and disturbing my peace. Go and never come back here again. I will call the authorities next time. No Christmas at Frost Manor. Goodbye! His threat was punctuated with the crackling sound of the intercom shutting off. 

Ugh. Belle turned on her heel, a million thoughts rushing through her head. How could Sam have ever left Frost Manor in the hands of that embittered human?

She was at a loss as to what to do now. Typically, her routine consisted of breezing in on Christmas Eve and leaving early on the twenty-sixth. But she had always made sure to visit Sam before she left. Now she was finally back in town for the whole holiday season, and Christmas wouldn't be the same. 

As she got in her car, her phone dinged with a voicemail from the headhunting agency she had been using. The new owner's shouting had drowned out the sound of her phone ringing. 

Hi Belle, it's Aubrey Bryson with Snowden's Recruiting Agency. I sent your resume out to a couple of companies, but I don't expect to hear back for a while because of the approaching holiday. I know you are eager to start working again, but just have patience, and we will find you the perfect job. I will call you if anything comes up. 

Belle clicked off the voicemail and threw the phone on the passenger seat next to her. Of course, it wouldn't be good news. She pressed the start button, and the engine roared to life. She touched her foot to the gas, and her vehicle sped out of the driveway and down the street.

Who does that monster think he is? she muttered as she fumbled with the buttons on the radio. He can't be Sam's grandson. It's impossible. Sam had always been a kind, gentle soul with a neatly trimmed white beard and dazzling smile. He had a plump frame and oozed the Christmas spirit wherever he went. Two of Sam's favorite things were decorating the manor and his rose gardens.

The last time she saw Sam was Christmas time a year ago. Their visit had only been a few minutes on his porch. She remembered he had asked why she never showed the art gallery her paintings. Belle had told him her art wasn't good enough to be in a museum.

She remembered the last words he'd said to her before she caught an early taxi to the airport: Don't fear failure, Belle. Fear being in the same spot next year as you are right now. 

The emptiness in her soul that had been eating at her for a long time began to grow again. At this stage in her life, she thought she would be reaping the benefits of her years of sacrifice. Now, she stepped into an unknown future, and she had no idea what to do.

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Chapter 2

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I can't believe you went to Frost Manor. Belle's mother piled the stuffing onto a plate, a few stray locks of gray hair falling into her kind blue eyes. I suppose this is my fault. I should have warned you. I was going to tell you about it tonight at our December-Giving feast.

Belle sighed. She was happy that her family had cooked up a second Thanksgiving for her after she had missed the first because of a charity event at work. She had hoped working over the holiday would have landed her the Vice-President position, but instead, she had gotten laid off a few days later thanks to budget cuts and low attendance numbers. 

Belle moved her stuffing around on her plate with her fork. Aren't sacrifices supposed to lead to joy? 

Why didn't you tell me you were going to go there? Her mother set her plate down, settling into her chair again. 

You know I had to go see the decorations, and I wanted to make a wish on the Wishing Bell. Belle's stomach rumbled as she looked down at the mountain of delicious morsels, mashed potatoes, stuffed mushrooms, macaroni and cheese, but she couldn't bring herself to eat. The altercation with her and the stranger at the mansion weighed heavily on her mind. After leaving the mansion, Belle returned home to her parent's farm. While it felt good to be back, she wasn't thrilled about not having her own place. Who was that man?

His name is Jake Frost, her father answered, pouring gravy over his turkey. Deep wrinkles had formed on his face from years of smiling and laughing, framing his brown eyes. He's Sam's grandson.

How can he be related to Sam? He's nothing like him. Belle passed a basket of biscuits to her brother Grayson. 

This Christmas is going to suck. Grayson's seventeen-year-old son, Logan, blurted out before his mother, Luna, could hush him. 

Logan! Don't talk like that. Luna scolded. 

Oh, dear, don't say such horrible things. Belle's godmother, Violet Silk, folded her napkin. Falls Village is still going to hold all its seasonal events, like the Christmas Market, gingerbread house contest, and the snowman building competition.

It doesn't matter. Logan shrugged. The Wishing Bell is what brings people to Falls Village. Now, people will have to go two towns over to get their trees. I won't get the seasonal job with Sam Frost this year, either. No one else is hiring. 

Belle looked over at her nieces, whose expressions mirrored her nephew.

Logan is right. Aviva was one year younger than Logan and the first to agree with him. Everyone looks forward to making a wish on the bell after they get their tree. What were you going to wish for, Aunt Belle?

A new job. Belle stabbed her fork into the macaroni and cheese that had started getting cold on her plate.

Frost Manor is no more. Ciella was known for her dramatics already at thirteen years old.

I don't understand. Belle added to Ciella's words. The Wishing Bell is a part of the community, and so is Frost Manor. Sam always wanted it to be that way. Isn't there something the town can do? 

Frost Manor is private property. It is not a historical landmark, her father answered. Jake was Sam's only living relative, and he left everything to him. After the funeral, Jake moved into the manor. You had already gone back to the city. No one knows anything about him. He rarely leaves the house, he never comes into town, and he chases out anyone who tries to visit Frost Manor. Just before Thanksgiving, Mayor Janssens went to pay him a visit to ask if he was going to open the tree lot and allow people to visit the Wishing Bell. Jake told her no, and that tradition was over and done with. 

He is a real beast of a man. Violet shook her head vigorously. The whole town has nicknamed him the Beast of Frost Manor.

Logan finished off his plate, setting down his fork. Jake has the whole place covered in surveillance like someone is going to rob him.

He's a beast, Violet insisted. He has no care for anyone in this town. He just moved in and shut down what makes our town whole. 

Why didn't Sam just leave the manor to the town instead of him? asked Belle's sister Josie.

It was his manor to leave to whomever he chose, Belle's father