A Soldier's Valentine

by Jenna Mindel

He didn’t look a bit sorry for it. “Not much, no. We ended up at my cousin’s house and stayed. He lives right off the snowmobile trail.”

  Ginger’s eyes narrowed. So it wasn’t nightmares that stole away his sleep. He certainly didn’t owe her an explanation for staying out all night, but a simple phone call would have been nice and might have put her mind at ease.

  “What’d you need?”

  She could tell Zach wasn’t in the mood to chat, but he could at least mention the windows. Tamping down irritation, Ginger handed over the check. “February’s rent. Sorry I didn’t make the first.”

  His eyes grew serious in an instant and his cheeks colored a little as he took it. He stared at the check, and then at her. “You’ve got till the tenth of the month, so no big deal.”

  “Before a late fee kicks in.” Ginger didn’t know why she wanted to rub that in.

  “Right.” He tipped his head. “You okay?”

  It wasn’t Zach’s fault that check had nearly wiped out her checkbook balance. Just as it wasn’t his fault that she’d waited up for him hoping he’d see the decorations and worried that he’d get hurt out there on the trails. Snowmobiles were fast these days.

  Ginger let out her breath. “I’m fine.”

  “I noticed what you did with the windows.” He sipped his steaming black coffee. “It looks nice.”

  She clenched her fists behind her back. Just nice? What wasn’t he saying? “It’s better at night, you know, with the lights.”

  “Yeah—” A knock on his front door interrupted.

  Checking her watch, she realized it was time to open. She backed away and headed for the woman bundled in a fur-trimmed parka waiting to come in. It was one of his glassblowing groupies—the older woman who’d written the article. “We’ll talk later.”

  He nodded.

  “No glass making today?” the woman asked.

  “Not this morning. What can I help you with?” Zach took care of the woman’s hunt for a pretty vase and even chatted about the weather and when the article would run in the local gazette.

  He sounded like any regular store owner. One who didn’t need her help.

  Ginger headed for her tea shop to make up gift baskets. Away from fishing for Zach’s approval on the windows. Away from the disappointment that gripped her. Their deal was over.

  * * *

  Well after lunchtime, Zach walked through the slider to Ginger’s side. He’d had good traffic for a Tuesday morning and a few good sales, but it had quieted down to nothing the past couple of hours. Ginger hadn’t peeked in since they’d both opened their doors.

  He spotted her behind the counter, typing away on her laptop. “Playing games?”

  She gave him a wry smile. “Going through month-end figures might be considered a game of sorts.”

  “Maybe this will help.” He handed her a check.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Reimbursement.”

  “But this is more than I spent.”

  “You never told me what your time was worth, so I guessed. That’s for waiting on my customers.”

  Her pretty brow furrowed. “Zach, I can’t accept this...”

  “Just take it, Ginger.” Accepting her rent check earlier had been weird. About as weird as she looked right now scanning the check he’d given her.

  Getting involved with her when there was a rent payment between them made things feel sticky. Stickier still were the windows. It looked like a bridal store with all that net stuff. He understood the silvery-looking moon, but what were those big silver spiky things supposed to be? Several different sizes, she had them hanging all over but more so above that little tea table of hers.

  He had to change it if they wanted to win, but how could he do that without playing right into her hang-ups? Wars were won despite losing a battle or two, and Zach couldn’t let this one go. He had to make sure she won that contest. But would winning be worth bruising her pride in the process?

  “I’m going to grab a sandwich. Do you want one?”

  Ginger shook her head. “No, thanks.”

  “Come on. Eat lunch with me and then let’s do some hot work. It’s not busy. We can make more hearts.”

  She looked at him with desire in her eyes. Like a kid wishing to play outside instead of being stuck doing homework inside. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

  He knew he had her. “Do it later.”

  She sighed and nodded.

  “Chicken club?”

  She shook her head. “I have leftovers.”

  “Eat those later.” He winked at her and left.

  It didn’t take long, and when he returned with their bagged lunch, he heard Ginger tinkering in the back room. He stepped behind the counter in order to join her, but her opened laptop caught his attention. The document she’d been working on was still on the screen—a spreadsheet with too many red numbers in parentheses.

  He stepped closer and frowned.

  Ginger’s trends didn’t look good. In fact, her shop wasn’t only in trouble. It was failing.

  * * *

  Ginger heard the crinkle of paper and looked up as Zach entered the back room. She’d set the table with paper plates and napkins along with a salt and pepper shaker. She’d placed a ten-dollar bill on the table, too.

  Looking grim, Zach set the bag down and picked up the bill. “I don’t want this.”

  “You paid last time.”

  He pushed the money toward her. “So?”

  “So, why can’t I pay?” Ginger pushed it back toward his plate.

  “I’m not playing this game. Keep your ten,” he growled.

  Ginger glared at him. He’d paid for breakfast the other day and then gave her a check that was too much, and now he wouldn’t let her pay for her own sandwich. “Are you trying to bribe me or something?”

  He laughed. “What are you talking about?”

  “I can pay for my own lunch, Zach.”

  He grabbed the ten and shoved it in his pocket. “Better?”

  She nodded. “Better.”

  “And you’re not stubborn.” Zach slipped into the chair across from her.

  “Persistent.” She bit into her sandwich.

  Zach ate fast and quietly. No chatter when there was glasswork to do.

  Still, his lack of enthusiasm for her window display shriveled up her appetite. She wrapped up the uneaten half of her sandwich for another time and slipped it into her little fridge.

  “You might want to change your clothes.”

  She fiddled with the hem of the wool sweater she wore. Working with glass, the temperatures got pretty hot. “Watch my shop?”

  He nodded. “I don’t think anyone’s coming in, though. It’s snowing pretty hard out there.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Ginger exited the back room and charged up the stairs to her apartment.

  Once she was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, she locked her front entrance and hung a note to inquire next door for tea. She didn’t want anyone wandering around where she couldn’t see them from Zach’s workspace.

  She glanced outside. Heavy snow fell and the streets were in fact empty. Very few shoppers were out and about, but that was okay. The voting for downtown windows didn’t open until the upcoming weekend.

  A week before Valentine’s Day.

  She entered Zach’s space and slipped onto the workbench. She watched him roll the molten end of the pipe into bits of colored glass frit on the marver before heading back to the furnace to reheat. He twirled the pipe a few times before dipping the end in for more honey-like hot glass.

  His movements were sure and relaxed. He’d taken off his sweater and wore only a T-shirt with faded blue jeans. That wicked-looking knight tattoo of his peeked out from underneath
Zach’s short sleeve as he leaned forward. And just like that conquering image in ink, Zach had marched right into her heart.

  “Here, hold on to this.” He placed the pipe across the side rails of the workbench. “Roll it.”

  She did as asked and he grabbed a bunch of folded wet newspaper and shaped the blob. Steam rose around his hands and a few sparks flew. He took the pipe, gathered up more glass and returned. She twirled while he shaped the form.

  They repeated this dance a couple more times until he grabbed the jack and pulled the hot glass into the shape of a heart. The glass shone opaque but still yellow hot with flecks of pink showing through where the edges grew clearer. Then he added that twist in the middle. The one she’d accidentally achieved with her vase.

  She looked into his eyes, getting lost there.

  He looked back. “I told you I liked it.”

  Her heart pulled like the hot glass he manipulated. “I want a go at the next one.”

  He gave her that half smile and placed his hand over hers. “Twirl.”

  She rolled the pipe with his hand still on hers, and he used the jack to indent the glass enough so he could eventually break off the heart with a few taps.

  Okay, maybe she’d gotten the windows all wrong. Love wasn’t moonlight and stars and fireworks in the sky. It was something much closer, and uncomfortable. It smoldered hot like the consuming fire of the furnaces behind them. Her feelings for Zach were scary. Her heart was no different from the pretty glass hearts they’d made. Fragile and easily broken, could she trust Zach not to shatter it?

  He took the pipe to the knock off table and tapped the hot heart onto a special pad. Using a hand torch, he reheated the one side of the glass and smoothed it out with a file.

  “Next one is yours.” He donned a pair of mitts and placed the heart in the cooling oven.

  Ginger stood, grabbed the pipe and dipped the end in as he’d shown her. And they repeated the process. Zach stayed close, gently coaching and showing her small variations to the work.

  “Nice job,” he said after they’d made a couple of dozen or so of the hearts.

  “What’s next?” Ginger couldn’t get enough.

  Zach chuckled. “We close up shop and keep going for a bit. If you want to.”

  Ginger hesitated. Distance might be a good thing right now before she fell in line and followed Zach anywhere. “I better not. I need to get some paperwork done.”

  “Right.” His eyes were on her with concern, but he didn’t say anything.

  Ginger stood and glanced outside. The sky had darkened to a deeper gray. Snow continued to fall and the streetlamps had come on. It’d be dark soon. Her tiny white lights flickered to life from the auto timer and bathed the front of the studio in soft, warm light.

  She scrunched her nose. “Well, what do you think?”

  “I think you should let the tea shop go and work with me.”

  “You’re serious.” Part of her wanted to, but that voice of caution kicked in and kept her from jumping at the chance.

  “I am.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, Zach. That’s a big step.”

  “I know.” He gently gripped her shoulder and squeezed. “Think about it.”

  “Okay. Now, honestly, what do you think of my window display?” Watching him, she knew she’d gone and blown it. Why’d she have to dig for more than nice? Why couldn’t she settle for nice?

  She held her breath while he really looked at the front of his shop. He’d stepped out into his retail space so he could scope out her window, too.

  She followed him. “It looks better from outside.”

  “Yeah, probably true.”

  She swallowed the bitter taste of hurt. “So you don’t like the windows.”

  “The windows are fine, but you’re wasting your time and talent in a dying tea shop.”

  She stared at him, trying to read between the lines of what he said, but he spoke plainly enough. There was no malice in his voice, no mean-spiritedness either. He simply stated his opinion as if it shouldn’t tear her in two.

  “You asked for honesty.”

  “That I did.” Ginger nodded, but his answer stabbed deep. And no way would she let him see how deep. “How do you know it’s dying?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Your back shelves are bare.”

  She forced a laugh and even smiled. “But it’s wintertime. My slow time of year.”

  His eyes saw right through that excuse. His studio had been busy since the day he opened. “You want to stay and keep going? I could use your help.”

  She shook her head. “I really need to get back to my month-end work. Thanks, Zach. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She barely heard his reply as she hurried next door for the last half hour before she closed up for the night. Gathering her laptop so she could finish upstairs in her apartment, she heard Zach turn up his radio. He’d continue blowing glass.

  Part of her wanted to join him. She wanted to believe that he wanted her to work for him because she was good, talented even. But what if that was wish-filled thinking on her part? She’d built her own business, but it wasn’t successful. She barely made ends meet, so what was the point anymore?

  The other part of her that had run from an even smaller town and away from her dysfunctional family wanted to prove Zach wrong. She didn’t need him or anyone else telling her what she could and couldn’t do.

  Zach was only one person with one opinion. The proof she needed was wrapped up in the window display contest. If she won, she’d finally have the chance to showcase her store on a statewide level. And then she’d know for sure.

  Chapter Eleven

  By Saturday, Zach knew what he had to do, but finding the right time to do it was another matter. He’d spent the rest of the week making items needed to transform their windows in time for voting. Finding an opportunity when Ginger wasn’t around proved nearly impossible, so tonight, after his brother’s wedding, he’d work through the night if he had to.

  She might not be pleased, but in the end, when they’d won, she’d have the ability to advertise and maybe grow. At the end of the year, when Ginger’s lease was up, he hoped she’d know if the win was worth it. At the end of the year, he wanted her to close up her shop and apprentice with him. But he wanted her to want that, too.

  At six o’clock, after he’d locked the front door to his studio, he stepped through the slider into Ginger’s. “Will you be ready in half an hour?”

  “I will.”

  “Good. I’ll see you soon.” Zach headed for his apartment.

  He wanted a shower and a shave. His mom had said the wedding wasn’t formal, but he’d wear a suit anyway. This was his and Ginger’s first date. He wanted to look nice.

  Twenty-five minutes later, he knocked on Ginger’s door.

  She opened it and smiled. “Hey.”

  He took in the gorgeous red dress she wore with long sleeves and a full skirt that skimmed her knees. She looked like a valentine. His valentine. He lingered on her feet encased in deadly high heels of man-slaying leopard print and shook his head. “We better drive.”

  “I can walk.”

  He laughed. “In those things?”

  “They’re really comfortable and the sidewalks are clear.”

  They’d had an early February thaw the past couple of days and tonight the temperature had stayed mild and well above freezing. “Let’s go.”

  “I’ll get my coat.” She left the door open.

  He watched her slip into a long wool coat, and her hair blazed against the black fabric. She pulled on fuzzy red gloves that made him smile. She was a living flame, this girl.

  “What?” She looked up and cocked her head.

  He shrugged. “Nothing.”

 
“You were looking at me weird.”

  He leaned close and whispered, “Because you look amazing.”

  “Thanks. So do you.” She blushed and brushed past him to pull the door shut behind them. “Come on, let’s go.”

  He smiled at that admission. She seemed a little distant lately. Jumpy even, if he got too close. So he’d back off, like now. Not teasing her. He followed her down the stairs, and once they were outside, he made a grand show of offering her his arm.

  “Whoa, who are you?” She made an equally grand show of slipping her arm through his.

  “A man on a date.”

  Laughing, she actually snuggled a little closer.

  And Zach was a goner.

  He wanted Ginger to become part of his business, but the more he pushed, the more she retreated. So, he’d let the matter drop. He’d invited her to help him make more twisted glass hearts with the excuse that he’d sell them long after Valentine’s Day.

  He didn’t let her know that she helped him make the items he’d use to redo their windows. The more they’d worked side by side this week, the more Zach wanted to make that kind of arrangement permanent.

  * * *

  Ginger couldn’t stop glancing at Zach after they’d arrived at the inn and he’d hung up his overcoat. He wore a gray flannel suit like nobody’s business. With a smoothly shaved jaw and piercing blue eyes, the man looked as if he’d walked off the pages of a magazine.

  He led her into a small private room where the wedding ceremony would be held. Despite the warmth of his hand against her back, she shivered.

  “Cold?” He slipped his arm around her waist.

  “I’ll warm up.” She hoped he hadn’t noticed how she’d trembled when he drew her closer to his side. One peek at the man who’d caused it and his face remained serious as he scanned the room.

  A young woman played a harp in the corner of the room. The soft sounds soothed as Ginger scanned the rows of white folding chairs without a separation down the middle. There were no ushers to lead them to their seats, so it was up to them to find a spot. “Do we have to choose sides?”

  “Huh?”

  “You know, the bride’s side or groom’s side?” She looked around. “If so, I need to sit on Annie’s.”