A Soldier's Valentine Page 7
“That’s a lot of trees.”
Zach chuckled. “He makes a lot of syrup.”
Her eyes widened as she looked around. “You know what? Maybe this would make a nice window display.”
Zach looked, too. “What would?”
Ginger spread her arms. “The woods. I don’t know, maybe some white birch branches with lights or some such.”
“A bunch of sticks don’t exude romance.” He gave her a wry grin. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, you know, the sticks could be covered with spray snow to represent snow-covered trees. Globs of the white stuff whipped against the tree trunks look pretty when the sun hits. These woods shine like a crystal forest full of diamonds.”
He didn’t see it. “Diamonds aren’t the theme.”
“Diamonds are romance to some women.” Ginger stopped walking and looked around again.
“Are you one of them?” He stopped, too.
Maybe that’s why ordinary boyfriends held no interest. She wanted the big bucks, and there was a lot of it spread around the area come summertime. But then a tea and spice store wasn’t exactly a rich-man magnet.
“You know, you’re really good at insulting me.” She glared.
The sun’s rays caught the ends of her hair beneath the knit hat she wore, turning those thick curls to flame. The woman was pure fire even in the middle of a snowy forest of hardwoods.
The way she lifted her chin gave him the perfect angle to lean down and kiss her. It’d be so easy.
And another nightmare waiting to happen.
He raised his hands in surrender. “You’re the one who said women like diamonds and crystal—”
She looked at him with challenge in her big brown eyes. “You’re the artist. Don’t you have a better idea?”
Than kissing her? “No.”
“Then I guess it’s no wonder you’re paying me to do yours.” She started walking, trudging one snow-shoed foot in front of the other.
“I’m paying so you’ll wait on my customers,” he corrected.
That wary look stole into her pretty eyes. “Why? I mean, you’re the one who signed up for retail.”
“Yeah, but you’re better at it than me. The army doesn’t teach soft customer service skills.”
Her bright eyes dimmed. “How long were you in the service?”
“Nineteen years.”
“Soooo, you joined when?”
“I enlisted right out of high school. My parents weren’t thrilled. They wanted me to go to college first, do the ROTC thing, but I didn’t want to be stuck sitting in a classroom for four years. I’d always wanted a military career, so I figured why wait?”
Ginger nodded. “So, you’re a patient man.”
“Right.” He laughed, but then his stomach turned when Ginger’s expression changed.
She looked far too thoughtful, and he knew what was coming by that tense look on her face. She was gathering her courage, choosing the right words. Then she took a deep breath and let it out. “You know, last night, you were having a pretty intense nightmare.”
Not only did she call them what they were, but she’d seen it up close and personal. How badly had he thrashed and mumbled on that couch?
“Is that why you woke me?”
Again, Ginger stopped walking. Looking far too serious for someone so bubbly, she asked, “Do you have them often?”
“Here and there.” He looked away. More so since coming back home.
Silence settled thick between them, but Ginger didn’t move. She simply waited.
For what he wasn’t sure, so he met her gaze. “What?”
She backed away and shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”
That statement irritated him. “Sure it is. We both live and work in the same building. You’ve a right to worry whether I’ll go postal.”
Her eyes widened with real fear. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It should be.” He wasn’t an idiot. And getting to know this woman, he knew that neither was she. Last night, he’d scared her. Just as he scared her now. He let out a weary breath. “Ginger, it’s okay. I’m working through it.”
He meant that, even though he didn’t want to talk about it with her or anyone else. He wanted to forget. He was trying to start over. What use was dredging up the past to someone not qualified to hear it? Not even close to understanding why he shouldn’t be here. Good men with families had died, while he came home with a mere scratch.
They kept moving. But he could tell she wasn’t comforted. If anything, she seemed even more tense than before.
They walked quite a ways without talking. The swooshing sounds of their movement blended with the bird calls surrounding them. Black-capped chickadees darted through the trees and nuthatches bounced up and down the tree trunks, yammering away. The path Zach followed through the woods eventually emptied out at the lake. He saw the tracks that crossed the lake, left by his brothers and sisters. They were probably already home.
Plowed roads or not, he wanted to pack up Ginger and get out of there. Get back to town and put some space between them. He took a few steps before he’d noticed that Ginger hadn’t moved. She stayed put on the shoreline.
He pointed at the smattering of huts toward the middle. “It’s frozen solid. See, there are ice fishermen out there safe and sound. And these tracks, they’re fresh.”
She didn’t look convinced.
He’d never have taken her for a chicken over something so small as walking across a frozen lake. He gave her a grim smile. “Do you really think I’d let you walk on dangerous ground?”
Her big brown eyes grew bigger.
He held out his hand. “Come on, you can trust me.”
After he said it, Zach realized the commitment that came with a statement like that. He’d made a pledge of honor. One he took seriously.
She looked him in the eyes for a long time. Searching his soul and weighing the imagined risks.
He waited. Hand still outstretched.
And then she placed her mitten-covered hand in his and something stirred deep inside.
He gave her a gentle squeeze. “You can do this, Ginger.”
* * *
The drive back to Maple Springs couldn’t have come at a better time. Ginger needed distance from Zach. Fortunately, while they’d been out snowshoeing, the county snowplows had gone through and opened the roads to town. Bundled up in the passenger seat, awfully close to the man she wanted to get away from, Ginger stared at the road ahead.
But the scent of outside clung to Zach’s jacket. He smelled like frosty fresh air and sunshine, reminding her of their morning snowshoeing in the woods. And his help across that lake.
Only twenty minutes more and she could zone out and not think. She didn’t want to think about this new connection with Zach.
“So, what happened there on the ice?” Zach’s voice was soft. Gentle even.
Ginger briefly closed her eyes. Was it worse to let him think she had a nutty phobia or tell him why it had taken every ounce of willpower she had to walk across that frozen water while clutching his arm as if it were a safety harness?
She cleared her throat. “My little brother fell through the ice on a lake. I pulled him out, but then I’d coaxed him out there.”
“How old were you?”
“Twelve. My brother was eight.” Ginger would never forget the way her father had ripped her up one side and down the other. Lambasting her until her ears rang.
They came to a stop sign. With no one in sight, Zach put the car in Park and faced her. His eyes were filled with real concern. “Was he okay?”
“He recovered, yes. But he lost the hearing in one ear because of an infection he
’d caught in the hospital.” And Ginger never forgot that kind of fear.
Fear of not getting her brother out of the water, and then the fear of him dying on the shore while she ran for help, followed by fear that he’d die in the hospital. Worst of all was that her father had never forgiven her. He’d turned that incident into a verbal weapon he’d used often enough for her to know.
“So, you’re afraid to walk on frozen lakes.”
“Lakes, ponds, rivers—that about covers all bodies of water.” Ginger tried to make light of it.
Zach gave her half a smile as he drove forward. “You walked on one today.”
Yes, she had. After refusing to follow Zach, she’d finally given in. How come? He’d assured her that where they’d tread wasn’t over deep water. Not once had he said her fear was silly or stupid. Not once had he barked at her for moving so slow or gripping his arm too tight.
This impatient man had been patient with her.
She stared at him. “Thanks.”
He looked at her. “No problem. I got your back.”
Ginger wanted to believe him.
She had no reason not to. Zach Zelinsky seemed to be a man of his word. An honest man with fears of his own. Fears he battled in nightmare form. Today, she’d walked across an icy lake despite her fears. With Zach’s help. Could she repay him the favor?
His flippant comment about going postal hinted that his issues ran deeper than a frozen-water phobia. He’d said he was working through it. What did that mean? How was he doing that? And could she even ask?
He’d asked her to trust him, but that was a tough one. Her father had broken her heart over and over with his cruel put-downs and resentments. She couldn’t trust her own family to be there when she needed them. Why would Zach be any different?
* * *
Monday Ginger spent half her day off on a wholesale tea-and-spice-buying trip in Traverse City. The weather had cooperated with clear skies and cold winter sunshine. She only wished her bank account wasn’t nearly as frozen. She’d purchased only enough inventory for the upcoming Valentine’s Day push.
After one taste, she chose an expensive cinnamon-clove chai complete with rose petals as the tea blend to inspire romance. It smelled amazing, inspiring thoughts of mystery and falling in love. Even better, it looked pretty, too.
She entered the back of her shop with a huge brown shopping bag and heard the deep drumbeat of rock music coming from next door. Her pulse picked up speed.
Zach was in his studio.
Setting her bag down, she tossed around the idea of seeing what he was up to. Should she? Shouldn’t she? She finally gave up and stepped through her shop. Spotting a couple of women peering through Zach’s window, Ginger hesitated. When they didn’t leave after a few more moments, she unlatched the slider and gave it a tug. Zach rarely locked his side, so she walked right in and gave the ladies a wave.
They waved back and pointed.
Really curious, Ginger stepped farther into Zach’s studio. Songs she didn’t recognize blared from a small speaker on the counter, near Zach’s phone. The same one he used to swipe credit cards.
He sat at the workbench. With one hand, he rolled a long metal pipe. His other hand cradled a glowing blob of molten glass at the pipe’s end with wet newspaper, causing steam to circle around him.
What struck her was the deep concentration on his face. And the joy she read there. Mesmerized like the ladies out front, Ginger didn’t interrupt. She simply watched him shape, clip and then stick that pipe with the molten mass of glass back in the furnace, only to repeat the cycle again. And again.
He’d noticed her, gave her a quick nod, but didn’t stop. Probably couldn’t.
This was why he wanted her help in waiting on his customers. He couldn’t do this and wait on customers, too. He’d had a lot of traffic when he’d first opened. Would that taper off now that folks knew he was here? Ginger glanced at Zach’s storefront window, where a few more had joined the audience.
Probably not.
Zach stood again. A masculine sight in jeans and a sweat-dampened T-shirt. That awful-looking, puckered scar on his left arm taunted her as he moved. Were his dreams about that injury or something else?
She didn’t know how long she watched him and didn’t care. The process was fascinating. When Zach finally tapped that long metal pole and the elegantly fluted glass vase with swirls of color fell off onto a fortified table, she heard the sound of muffled applause coming from outside. She wanted to clap, too.
Zach gave his audience a quick wave and donned a pair of what looked like long heavy-duty oven mitts. He lifted the vase, walked it over to what he’d called an annealer and set it deep inside. After closing the doors, he slid the mitts off and wiped his brow, then turned down the music. “Hey.”
Ginger glanced at the window. “Looks like your spectators are leaving.”
“Yeah.” Zach’s brow furrowed.
“You had quite the audience out there.”
He shrugged. “It’s a neat thing to watch.”
Not to mention the man, but Ginger wasn’t going to admit that. Not out loud, anyway. “It was really cool. So now what?”
“Now? I’m hungry and I’m going to grab a sandwich at the place across the street. Want anything?” He slipped on a sweatshirt and then his jacket.
Bernelli’s was her favorite. And she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Ginger made a move toward her shop. “Let me get my wallet.”
Zach waved her off. “I got it. Tell me what you want.”
Ginger hesitated.
He cocked one eyebrow at her indecision.
“Okay, fine. I’ll take a chicken avocado club.”
He gave her a nod and left.
Well, the impatient Zach Zelinsky was back in full force.
Ginger returned to her shop, leaving the glass slider between their stores open, and put away her purchases. It didn’t take long.
Coming back out front, she stared at her storefront window. The heart-shaped teapots she’d ordered should be in soon. They’d look nice incorporated into her display somehow. Whatever that display might be. With Valentine’s Day only three weeks away, she needed to decide pretty soon. With Zach’s offer, she could afford decorations, but they needed to be up when the voting tab on the chamber’s website went live in two weeks. The community had five full days to cast their votes for the best window. Ginger wanted those votes.
What was it about Maple Springs that enticed lovers? How could she get that theme across while promoting her tea and Zach’s glasswork so that both windows tied together somehow?
“I got you an iced tea.”
Zach’s voice startled her and she whipped around. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
He shrugged and headed for her back room. “Want to eat in here?”
“Sure.” Ginger followed, her stomach growling. She hadn’t expected they’d eat together, but then, why not? They were both here, working. On their day off. How pathetic.
Zach pulled out two foil-wrapped sandwiches, a couple of bags of chips and cookies while Ginger set her small table with paper plates and napkins.
Sliding into a chair opposite, she waited for Zach to sit down, too, but he was looking over her newly stocked shelves. “I went shopping.”
“I see that, but you didn’t buy much.” He looked too intently at her rather bare shelves.
She shrugged. She couldn’t afford much, but she wouldn’t admit that aloud, either. “I picked up a really nice Valentine’s Day chai tea blend. Besides, I like my tea leaves fresh, so I don’t buy too much in bulk.”
He finally sat down. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d pray over the food.”
He gave her a crooked half grin. “Go ahead.”
He bowed his head and quickly said the words she barely remembered but had liked the sound of. They had a nice rhythm and sweet appreciation and could be recited without baring one’s soul.
When he’d finished, he handed her the bottle of unsweetened iced tea. What a guy.
“Thanks for getting this.” She shook the bottle before opening it. “And you remembered no sugar.”
“Not that hard to do. So, you really like tea?” He bit into his sandwich.
Ginger squashed the butterflies in her belly. She really shouldn’t read into his words but couldn’t help it. Zach remembered stuff about her. “Uh, yeah. Why?”
He shrugged. “Just trying to figure out how you got here, doing this.”
“I started working for Sally while I attended the community college up here. This whole space was once her pottery shop along with tea and spices. I eventually took over the tea and spice part of the store and one thing led to another and now I own it. So here I am.”
“Here you are.” He saw straight through her and looked as if he might be disappointed. He leaned back in the chair and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Did you always want to have a tea store?”
She looked away. “Not necessarily tea, not even a store per se, but I’ve always wanted to run my own business.”
“And why’s that?”
She laughed. “Be my own boss. You know, take orders from no one but me.”
He looked thoughtful.
“So, what’s with all the questions?”
“Just making conversation.”
Of course he didn’t care. Not really. They were making small talk while they ate, because they were neighbors. Friendly neighbors. That’s the way it should be. And if she was smart, that’s all they’d ever be.
Chapter Six
A couple of days later, while Ginger waited on Zach’s customers, she spotted Annie entering through the slider door from her shop. Giving her friend a nod, she cleared through the short line of women buying glass hearts and multicolored globes.