Jenna Mindel - A Soldier's Valentine

Did she imagine that haunted look?

Ginger clutched the pretty glass heart in her hand. “Thanks for this. I think you should use these in your window.”

“Again with the window. You’re like a dog on a bone.”

She made a face. Maybe Zach was all bark. He’d given her a heart and that felt pretty good.

He shifted his stance and then cleared his throat. “I understand you’ve been invited to my folks’ party.”

Ginger’s heart raced. “Yes.”

“Are you going?” His blue eyes pierced hers.

Didn’t he want her to? Surely, Annie would understand if she bailed at the last minute. “Uh...”

“If you are, ride with me.” That sounded more like an order than a request.

“I can drive.” Did Captain Zach think she couldn’t manage on her own? It was only ten miles away.

Ginger glanced at the snow piling up on the sidewalks out front. The forecast called for heavy bands of lake effect through the night. “I mean, I don’t want to put you out. I have to be up early in the morning, so I can only stay for a bit.”

“I won’t be long.” His voice sounded so stern and irritated. “No sense both of us driving in this weather.”

She looked into his tired blue eyes and found herself nodding. “Okay, but I have to change. What time do you want to leave?”

“An hour.”

“Deal.” Ginger reached out to pull the slider closed.

Zach stopped her. “This isn’t a date or anything.”

She tipped her head. Good grief, did he want her to go or not? “I don’t have to go?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Ginger placed her hands on her hips. “Then what did you mean?”

His eyes narrowed, but he raised his hands in surrender. “Nothing. Forget it.”

Yeah, right. “Fine.”

“Good. I’ll see you in an hour.”

Ginger closed the slider with a hard snap.

What a jerk! Not a date. Seriously? He’s the one who had asked her; she hadn’t asked to ride along.

She closed up her shop and stomped upstairs to change. Well, at least it wouldn’t be a long night ahead, but the drive there and back promised to be a real treat.

* * *

An hour later, Zach knocked on the door to Ginger’s apartment above her shop. This felt an awful lot like a date. And he’d made it worse by trying to point out the obvious. He didn’t want to date his tenant. Didn’t want to send the wrong message, either.

Ginger opened the door wide. Her hair looked the same, but she’d changed into jeans and a bulky knit sweater. It didn’t matter what she wore, or how she fixed her hair. What made her most attractive was the light that shone from within her. That fire. Ginger had a glow all her own.

“Hey.” Even her cheerful voice warmed him.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Wariness crept into her eyes, but she backed up and let him enter.

“I didn’t get a good look at your place before I bought the building.” He looked around. “Your apartment is nicer than mine.”

Her gaze narrowed as if trying to read between the lines of what he said.

Great. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kick you out. Just saying you made it nice.”

“I’m the queen of thrift stores and yard sales.”

She wasn’t afraid to use color. The walls were painted a sunny yellow and the tall windows had vibrant floral-patterned curtains instead of the plain wood blinds he used. Even the cupboards in her galley kitchen had been painted brick red.

He spotted the glass heart he’d given her hanging in the window by yellow ribbon to secure it. “You hung it up.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Did you think I’d smash it or something?”

“I apologize for earlier. I just wanted to be clear.” He smiled then, hoping she understood.

She shook her head without any sign of a grudge. “I see why you’re not a Valentine’s kind of guy.”

He laughed at her comeback. “You have no idea.”

It hit him then that he didn’t want to go to his parents’ party. He’d rather stay right here and curl up with Ginger on that plush couch against the far wall to watch a movie. His comment about tonight not being a date wasn’t really for her benefit but his own.

A reminder that Ginger Carleton was off-limits. Or should be.

“Ready?”

“Almost.” She sat down and pulled on knee-high leather boots over a pair of fuzzy striped socks. Then she slipped into a down jacket, more fuzzy mittens and a scarf. Grabbing her purse, she looked up. “I’m ready.”

He held the door open and followed down the stairs and outside. The snow fell harder now and the wind had kicked up, biting his nose with bitter cold.

“Is your car good in the snow?” She eyed his Jeep Wrangler with doubt.

“I have four-wheel drive, so yes. And the clearance is higher than your Beetle.”

She nodded and climbed in, kicking snow from her feet before swinging them inside.

He started the engine and brushed off the windows before slipping behind the wheel. Glancing at Ginger huddled in the seat next to him, looking cold, her couch beckoned even louder. “So, what’s going on in the morning? Church?”

“What?” She had the look of sweet confusion, as if he’d interrupted a pleasant daydream. “Oh. I volunteer on the worship team at church, and tomorrow is my Sunday to sing. I have to get there early to practice.”

He wasn’t the least bit surprised that Ginger was truly a woman of faith. Maybe having faith in common was what drew him. “Do you sing solo?”

“No way!” Ginger chuckled. “I’m not that good, but I can carry a tune well enough I suppose, or they would have tossed me by now. There are a few of us who sing with a small band. Do you go to church?”

“Yes.” He pulled out onto the road. “But I haven’t found what I’m looking for.”

“Would you like to go with me? I mean, you know, check it out.” She looked surprised for inviting him.

All things considered, he was, too. He couldn’t resist teasing her. “Are you asking me out?”

She’s old enough.

Her cheeks flushed. “Uh, no. You made that pretty clear.”

Had he really hurt her feelings? If so, it was a small price to pay for keeping things safe between them. “I’m your landlord.”

She gave him a cool stare. “Yeah, I know. Wait, don’t you go where your parents attend?”

“I’m looking for something less traditional.” He’d gone only once since he came home, and the church he’d grown up attending didn’t fit anymore.

She fumbled in her purse for a second or two. Then she whipped out a business card and placed it in his drink holder. “I go to Maple Springs Community Church and the service starts at nine. That’s the address and phone number. You can meet me there, since I’m going in early. It’s just a couple miles heading south, out of town.”

He nodded. “You’re quite the promoter, aren’t you?”

She shrugged but looked as if she braced for a slam.

He hadn’t meant to sound so critical and was sorry for it. “I have a proposition for you.”

She let loose a nervous-sounding giggle. “What’s that?”

It might serve both their needs, for now. “You want to win that window contest, right?”

She gave him a pointed look.

He chuckled. “I don’t have time to do it, but I’ll give you free rein on both windows and pay for the materials if you’ll do one thing.”

Now she looked nervous. “What’s that?”

“Wait on my customers so I can blow glass.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“You get the prize no matter which window wins.” He had to concentrate on the road ahead of him, but he could feel her weighing the pros and cons as she considered his request. He clenched his jaw to keep from coaxing her to accept. If what Monica had said was true, she could probably use the money.