by Jenna Mindel
He chuckled. “You look a little green.”
“Not a big fan of blood.”
Zach stood and grabbed a roll of paper towels. Still holding the bandage that was soaking through, he handed her the towels. “Dry off my arm, and then we’ll put another bandage on there and tape it down.”
She nodded. Tearing off a couple of towels, she patted his forearm dry, trying not to look up into his face, steering clear of his eyes.
“I’m sorry about earlier.” His voice was whisper soft.
And it cut right through her. She shrugged, but cold air blew in from the open window and made her shiver. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
She looked up and another shiver raced up her spine. Would he kiss her again? Part of her hoped...
He didn’t. He handed her a fresh bandage. “Open that.”
She nodded and her fingers fumbled with the packaging. Foolish girl!
He stilled her hands, until she looked up. “Friends? I won’t pull that on you again.”
Ginger battled both disappointment and relief. “Okay, friends.”
“Good.” He pulled the bloodstained bandage off.
The cut was already clotting. He’d live. Ginger laid the new bandage in place and while Zach held the gauze, she firmly taped the edges.
He gave her a crooked half grin. “Nice job.”
“Girl Scouts, but I dropped out before I earned my medical badge. So, what happened?”
He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand straight up. “I was tapping a good-sized globe onto that knock off table and lost it.”
She noticed a dark burn mark on the underside of his other forearm and touched it, but he didn’t flinch. “Does it hurt?”
He shrugged again. “It’s fine.”
She searched in the first aid kit and found some antibiotic ointment. Twisting off the cap, she squeezed a dollop onto her finger. “Here.”
“You do it.” He held his arm out.
Was he teasing her?
She spread the ointment quickly across his burned skin, and her pulse picked up speed. Friends—right. Her heart wasn’t supposed to skip beats with a friend. She didn’t dare look at him or he might see how much he affected her.
She tore off a couple of sheets of paper towel, wiped off her fingers and then the tweezers. She scooped up the glass splinter with the towels and threw it all away. Glancing at the mess of broken glass on the floor, she asked, “Can you save any of that?”
He grabbed a broom and swept the pieces into a pile. “Nope.”
She handed him the dustpan.
He scooped up the pile and tossed it in the trash.
“Now what?”
“I’ll make another one.”
Ginger chewed the inside of her mouth. She should leave, but didn’t want to. “Can I help?”
He looked at her for a long moment and then finally said, “You want to give it a try?”
Ginger’s stomach flipped. “Really?”
“I’ll show you. Have a seat over here.” He patted his workbench with the high sides.
She watched him slip that long metal pipe into the bigger furnace. The molten glass dripped like thick honey. He twirled the pipe and then rolled it along the edge of the big steel table that still had the first aid kit lid lain open at the other end.
Then he dipped the pipe in the furnace again, gathering more hot glass onto the already glowing glob. “What do you want to make?”
She grinned. “Another globe?”
He nodded. “What color?”
“All colors.”
He gave her a nod and dipped the glob of hot glass into piles of colored glass sprinkles. He picked up a few blue, some green and yellow and then red shimmering bits, then back into the furnace. Explaining what he was doing as he went, he cautioned her not to touch anything until he said to do so.
When he had a nice little ball of hot glass with streaks in it, he wiped off the mouthpiece of a hose that was connected to the pipe. “Here, blow through this.”
Ginger did as he asked.
“Harder than that.”
She giggled and blew harder. The hot glass at the end of the pipe bubbled and leaned.
“Okay, roll the pipe along this ledge here. See how it lets the glass stretch.”
She twirled the pipe too slowly, so Zach placed his hands between hers and rolled faster. She let loose a nervous-sounding giggle again. “This is so cool.”
He took the pipe and twirled it in the glory hole furnace with its wide circular opening. He pulled it back out and handed her the mouthpiece. “Blow again.”
She did as he asked while looking up into his eyes.
“That’s good. See how it’s filling out?” He rolled the pipe with her. “You want to keep going?”
“Yes. I want to do everything from start to finish. Show me everything.”
He smiled at her. A full-blown wide smile that made her heart race. “Okay.”
Time had stopped. Ten minutes or two hours, Ginger didn’t know how long she stayed with Zach, blowing globes and then finishing up with a couple of vases. Her vase twisted really weird, but he said that he liked it and wouldn’t toss it. He showed her how to use the giant tweezers he called “jacks” to pull the glass like taffy and then eventually cut it away from the pipe.
He was right there, protecting her, teaching her, even showing her how to shape the molten glass with wet wooden cups called blocks. Then he’d take over and together they’d take the piece to the knock off table, dislodging their glass creations from the pipe.
She felt like Alice must have after falling down the rabbit hole into a whole new world of color and shapes and heat. She understood why Zach called it hot work, but her fear of getting burned lessened as the night wore on. Zach was a good teacher, keeping her safe. But her heart had inched dangerously close to a different kind of fire. One that might consume her if she wasn’t careful.
Finally, Zach donned heavy mitts and carried the last thing they’d made to the cooling oven. “We’ll be able to handle everything in the morning.”
Ginger yawned. “What time is it?”
“One thirty.”
They’d been working for hours, but it had gone by so fast. “How’d you get into this?”
He went to the minifridge and grabbed two bottles of water. Handing her one, he said, “I attended a glass workshop while taking night classes and pretty much got hooked.”
Ginger took a long sip. “Night classes?”
“I had to get my degree in order to become an officer.”
“So what’s your degree in?”
He gave her that half smile. “Business.”
Of course, he’d trained for this, too. “So, how’d you fit it all in?”
He shrugged. “After transferring to another base, I finished my degree online. The glassblowing met the humanities requirement, but like I said, I was hooked. I found an owner of a small glass studio who needed help and apprenticed with him when I was off duty in order to use his studio after hours. I did that for years. It’s why I settled on a business degree. I wanted my own shop after I retired.”
“So that’s why you came home?”
A shadow passed over his face. He emptied his water bottle and tossed it into the recycle bin. “It wasn’t my choice to leave the army this soon.”
“What happened?” Ginger saw his stormy expression and backpedaled real quick. “I mean, if you care to share.”
A flicker of something dark and angry shone from his eyes. “I received my walking papers while in Afghanistan. Latest round of budget cuts. Despite my exemplary service, I got RIFed.”
Ginger cringed at the raw sarcasm in his voice, but wanted clarification. “Riffed?
”
“Reduction in force. Let go, laid off, whatever fits.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. And keep it quiet. I haven’t told my family.”
“Why not?”
His anger turned to discomfort. “If I’d been a commissioned officer from the start, maybe I’d still be there. Like I said before, my father graduated from West Point. I was supposed to follow in his footsteps, but my grades weren’t good enough. I enlisted instead, having no intention of becoming an officer. But then I was recommended for OCS—”
“What’s that?” Ginger interrupted.
“Officer Candidate School. As a commissioned officer, a four-year degree is required. And since I was making a lifelong career out of it, I jumped at the chance to move up.”
Ginger understood all too well. Zach wanted to live up to his father’s example and make him proud. Didn’t he realize he’d surpassed it by his active duty? She’d heard Helen mention that Zach had been deployed too many times to count.
“Didn’t matter in the end. I didn’t make twenty years. There’s no way I would have retired without at least twenty years in. My dad knows that.”
“He hasn’t asked?”
“No.”
“Maybe he’s waiting on you to tell him.”
Zach grunted. “Might be a long wait.”
“Why? Don’t you think your dad would understand better than most?”
He shrugged.
There had to be more to it than not fulfilling his career expectations. Getting laid off because of budget cuts wasn’t exactly something Zach could control. But then, neither were his nightmares. Did his family know about those? Did the army?
In her opinion, getting let go from the army might be the best thing for him in the long run. It had to be. She’d read the joy in his eyes while he worked. His whole countenance lit up when he taught her the craft of working with glass.
And she’d responded back with joy. Ginger couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun. “Maybe that was God’s plan to get you out.”
He gave her a look that said she didn’t know what she was talking about.
The grump had returned. And that made her defenses rise along with her voice. “I don’t know what you were like in the army, but you’re so alive when you’re working with glass. I can see it’s your passion. It makes you a good teacher.”
He suddenly chuckled. “I’m not so passionate with the customers.”
She laughed, too, relieved that he’d lightened the moment instead of biting her head off. “No. Not so much.”
“Maybe that’s where you come in.”
She tipped her head. “Me?”
“Work for me.”
Ginger’s belly fluttered. Those butterflies were dancing up a storm. Zach was talking crazy and she was crazy enough to want to believe him. “I think the late night has gotten to you.”
“I’m serious.” He wasn’t kidding.
And that scared her more than she’d like to admit. Time to leave. “No.”
“Why not?”
She spread her arms wide. “I have my own business to run.”
He took a step toward her. “You came alive shaping that glass. Tell me you didn’t love it.”
Ginger stepped back. He’d read her like an open book. Could he sense how he’d affected her, too? Coaxing out all kinds of wish-filled feelings that working for him might destroy?
She grabbed her fleece jacket and headed toward the door. “It’s late and I’m going to bed.”
“Yeah, it is late.” He turned off the light, closed and locked the door behind them.
She bounded up the stairs, unlocked the door to her apartment and then waited. “Thank you for tonight. It was fun.”
When Zach reached the top, he looked way too intent. “Think about it, Ginger.”
“Good night, Zach.” Ginger opened her door and slipped inside.
No way.
There was no way she could accept that offer and keep her heart safe. After working hard to make something of herself, she couldn’t throw it all away on the whim of a handsome man asking. A man she cared for too much but didn’t dare trust with her future.
* * *
The next morning, Zach stepped out of his apartment with coffee mug in hand. He’d slept well despite making glass into the wee hours. Maybe all that work had given him a dreamless night. Whatever it was, he looked forward to Ginger’s reaction to the items they’d made last night.
He paused at her door. Should he knock?
No.
He’d see her downstairs in the safety of their respective shops. If he hoped to keep things on a friendly and professional level, he’d stay away from her in her apartment.
By the time he flipped on the lights at the back of his studio, he knew Ginger was already at work. He smelled the scent of cinnamon from the tea she’d made every morning this week before overhearing her talking on the phone to someone about the window contest, answering questions, giving advice. Must be another merchant. And Ginger was always ready to help.
He heard the click of her heeled footsteps as she entered his place through the slider. He never locked it, knowing she kept her side locked.
He met her near his sales counter. “Morning.”
“Have you opened the cooling oven yet?” Ginger’s eyes shone with eagerness.
“Not yet. Come on back.” Maybe offering her a job hadn’t been such a bad idea. She was clearly hooked. Much like he’d been all those years ago. Could he afford to bring her on? Sooner seemed better than later, but that might be the thrill of working with her last night. He needed to crunch the numbers and readjust his plan. She had a business to run and part of that was paying him rent. To hire Ginger, he’d have to take over her retail space and increase sales sooner than planned. Based on his traffic, he might be ready. But was he ready for Ginger?
Maybe...
He opened the doors of the annealing oven and reached inside. The glass was cool enough to touch, and gently, he withdrew the vase Ginger had made. It leaned a bit on one side, but he’d fortified the bottom so it would stand without toppling. She’d used the small jack to pinch the sides into a swirling twist of red and white and clear glass that he liked.
Her eyes widened. “Can I touch it?”
“You can have it.”
She caressed the glass before taking the vase from him. Then she scrunched her nose. “It’s not good enough to sell, is it?”
He chuckled. “Maybe not, but it’s an excellent first try. More like what most come up with on their fourth or fifth lesson.”
“Really?” She didn’t look as if she believed him.
“I don’t blow smoke, Ginger.”
Her eyes narrowed, and he saw the satisfaction register deep in her brown eyes. “So, it’s pretty good?”
“Very good.” He pulled out the globes. One by one, they were bigger than what he usually made alone and loaded with twisted glass strands inside. Setting them in a wooden box he kept by one of the worktables, he added, “These will definitely sell, and I couldn’t have made them without your help.”
“Really?”
He gave her a look.
“Sorry. Not used to compliments. Especially coming from you.” She gave him a playful grin.
He snorted. For a look like that, he’d do almost anything. “Just stating facts, but I’ll compliment more often.”
Her cheeks colored and she looked away. Setting aside her vase, she inspected the glass globes, touching each one. “You better put a decent price tag on them. Don’t just give them away like you do with your little glass hearts.”
He needed this woman in his shop. “I will.”
“And you should hang them in your window.”
Touching the large cobalt blue ball of glass with strings of glass embedded inside, Ginger smiled at him. “Right. For now.”
Every thought about keeping it professional and friendly scattered. Remembering the feel of his lips on hers, he wanted to pull her close and make good on kissing her properly. And definitely more thoroughly than what they’d shared walking home last night.
As if reading his thoughts, she backed away, grabbed her vase and headed for her side through the slider. “I’ve got to run out for a second.”
He glanced at his watch. Nine forty-five. They both opened in fifteen minutes. “What about your customers?”
She shrugged. “If I’m a little late opening up, no big deal. You’re the one with the groupies. Entertain the ladies until I get back. Oh, and Zach. If Sally shows up, don’t let her leave till I get back. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Got it.” But he shook his head.
This was how it could be if they worked together. With Ginger’s help, his business would grow. She was good not only with the customers, but pricing details and community stuff. He needed this woman to flourish. And he needed to convince Ginger it’s what she needed, too.
Chapter Eight
By the time Ginger returned with baked goods and a bouquet of flowers, Zach’s groupies were only a couple of women who looked disappointed as they left. “What’s with them?”
Zach sipped from his coffee mug. “I’m not doing hot work this morning, so they left.”
“Oh.” Ginger raised the bakery box. “I’ve got Danish and doughnuts if you’d like some.”
He grinned. “Yeah.”
Ginger nodded for him to follow her. She set down the box on the table in her break room and put out little plates and napkins.
Zach dug in. “Thanks.”
“Thank you for the class on glass last night. You’re a good teacher.”
“Yeah?” He looked surprised by that. The corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re a good student.”
Ginger’s heart pumped hard. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Ginger checked her watch then bustled about filling her electric urn with water and then plugged it in. Did she imagine that Zach watched her every move? She turned around to check, but he was grabbing another goodie from the box. “Sally should be here soon.”
