A Soldier's Valentine. Jenna Mindel

also made a small shelving unit out of wooden milk crates that was littered with spice bottles and decorative tins. There was more going on in her window than her shop.

      “That sign isn’t going to cut it.” She pointed to the lower corner.

      “It’s fine for now,” he growled. Give the woman an inch and she’d take a mile.

      He’d made his own sign on the computer and then slipped it into a clear plastic sign holder that he’d picked up at an office supply store. He needed to focus on making new items and custom work, not mess with a window display. Juggling customer interruptions with glassblowing wasn’t easy. Most days, he waited until after hours to make anything new.

      At this rate, he’d never accommodate the big orders, or remake his own overhead lighting with blown glass globes as he wanted. But he wasn’t prepared to hire help just yet and he didn’t have time to bring on an apprentice. A real catch-22.

      “What about glass hearts?” Ginger said. “I’ve ordered a few heart-shaped teapots that I may hang in my window.”

      Did it really matter? Either people would check out his store or not. “Actually, I’ve made a few.”

      Her eyes gleamed as if she were a kid in a candy store. “Can I see?”

      He chuckled. “Most are still in the annealer, but I have some ready—”

      The door jingled and his brother, followed by the woman who he assumed was his fiancée, stepped inside with a swirl of cold air and snowflakes.

      “Nice digs.” Matthew glanced around the space with admiration. “Zach, this is Annie. We thought we’d stop in and see the place.”

      He extended his hand. “Good to meet you. And this is—”

      “Oh, we know each other.” Ginger waved him off. “Where’s the baby?”

      “With Marie,” Annie said.

      “That’s Grandma,” Ginger clarified. “Your brother used to work with Annie’s late husband.”

      Zach nodded. He’d heard as much from his mom after he’d come home. Annie was two years older than Zach, but didn’t look it. Not at all.

      “You have a beautiful shop, Zach. Are you glad to be home?” Annie asked.

      His gaze strayed to Ginger while he thought about the question. “Yeah, sure.”

      “Well, thank you for your service. You do Maple Springs proud.” Annie meant it, too. No lip service there.

      “Honored.” He gave her a nod because it’s what he did. Accept thanks and move on.

      Many had thanked him at the parade and a few customers had stopped in to do the same. He gave them the standard awkward response he’d given his future sister-in-law. He didn’t feel so honored anymore. More like discarded. Chewed up and spit out because his usefulness was over.

      Logically, he knew it couldn’t be because he’d lost good men in that ambush. That happened three years ago, but had it played a role? Or maybe because he’d come up from the enlisted ranks. Did it really matter why the army chose to cut him loose?

      It would to his father. Zach had been part of the latest round of defense budget cuts, and regardless of the reason, bottom line, he hadn’t been worth keeping.

      Annie nodded toward the opened slider. “Ginger, can I get some tea?”

      “Sure thing.” Ginger followed without a backward glance.

      Zach watched the women make their exit, momentarily mesmerized by one red ponytail.

      “She’s coming to Mom and Dad’s.”

      “What’s that?”

      Matthew studied the glass sculptures. “Tonight. Ginger is Annie’s best friend, so I invited her.”

      “How old is she?” Zach regretted blurting that out when he saw the stormy look on his brother’s face. “I meant Ginger.”

      “Thirty-two, I think. My age.”

      Zach was floored. “You sure about that?”

      His brother laughed. “Don’t worry, she’s old enough.”

      “Yeah?” Zach shook his head to clear it. “Not that it matters.”

      “Uh-huh.” Matthew clearly wasn’t convinced.

      Zach peered through the glass slider at Ginger, and then quickly looked away. He slapped his younger brother on the back. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the shop.”

      During the quick tour, Zach’s mind kept wandering back to Ginger. She was young, but not that young. Not off-limits young as he’d first thought. And that made her even more alluring. But romance with Ginger would be navigating an entirely different kind of minefield. He might not lose a limb, but losing one’s heart could be equally painful.

      He wasn’t in the mood to become that kind of casualty. Right now, he had enough to deal with.

      * * *

      “So, what do you think?” Annie asked.

      Ginger inhaled the earthy scents of citrus and cinnamon while shoveling loose tea leaves into a plastic bag. “About what?”

      Annie wiggled her eyebrows. “Your new landlord.”

      Ginger concentrated on closing up the bag. She knew exactly what Annie wanted but tried playing dumb. “Ugh, that’s right. February’s rent is due soon.”

      “Nice dodge.”

      Ginger secured the metallic twisty-tie with fascinated interest.

      “You like him, don’t you?” Annie zeroed in better than a hawk circling a squirrel.

      Ginger sighed. “No, I do not. He’s touchy, downright grumpy and cantankerous besides. But look at him.”

      Annie did just that. Maybe a little longer than Ginger thought necessary. “The Zelinsky men are handsome, I’ll give you that.” Running her finger along the counter, Annie stalled. “Matthew says Zach can be pretty intense. Sooooo...”

      “So what?” Ginger hissed.

      Annie’s pretty blue eyes widened with amusement. “Maybe he needs someone positive. Someone like you.”

      Ginger shrugged. She’d caught a look or two from Zach that was intriguing. And that morning he’d kept her from falling flat on her backside had been interesting, too. And nerve rattling.

      He was not only her landlord, but a neighboring store owner. Acting on her attraction would be tricky at best and not very smart. If they got involved and the relationship went south, Ginger wouldn’t stick around. She’d bolt. Even with Zach’s increased rent, this was the cheapest place in town. She didn’t want to lose her business because of a bad romantic entanglement.

      And something about the surly Captain Zach screamed bad romantic entanglement.

      Annie dug for a twenty from her purse to pay for the tea. “Are you still going tonight?”

      Ginger counted back the change. “Tonight?”

      “Dinner party at the Zelinskys’, remember? Matthew said you’d agreed to go.”

      “Oh, yeah. I forgot for a minute, but I’ll be there.”

      If Annie needed her, Ginger wasn’t about to let her down, even though she’d promised before she’d thought it through. Before she’d felt this twitchiness toward Zach.

      At home would he smile more? Laugh, even? She didn’t want to miss that. But then again, maybe she should.

      “Maybe you and Zach can ride together.”

      “Right.” But Ginger’s stomach flipped. That’d be awkward.