The Texas Rancher's Return

by Allie Pleiter

  The cold air made her hasten her steps. Slipping on a patch of ice, she bobbled but caught herself and stayed upright. A strong hand gripped her shoulder, steadying her. Fearing it might be Lewis, she looked up and breathed easy when it wasn’t.

  “Thanks.”

  Matthew Zelinsky chuckled and let go. “I don’t know how you walk in those things.”

  Ginger laughed, too, glancing at her high-heeled-boot indulgence. “It takes skill.” Then she looked around. “Where’s Annie?”

  “Home with the baby. She didn’t want to take John out in this cold.”

  Ginger smiled. “She’s hogging that little guy all to herself.”

  “She loves being a mom,” Matthew said.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” At thirty-two, Ginger’s biological clock had a few ticks left, but then she wasn’t exactly looking for a husband. She hadn’t met any she considered worth the trouble. Or the risk.

  Matthew was one of the good ones. He had stepped in to help after Annie’s husband had died, and they’d ended up falling in love. As first mate on a Great Lakes freighter, Matthew was home until late March when the shipping season started up again. “By the way, my mom’s having a get-together in two weeks, and we’d like you to come.”

  “A prenuptial celebration? Sure, I’m in.” Ginger was thrilled that Matthew had given Annie an engagement ring at New Year’s. They planned a small, informal wedding the week before Valentine’s Day.

  “More of a welcome home for Zach.”

  “Oh...” She’d agreed too soon.

  “I’ll tell Annie that you’re going. She’ll be glad to have you there. I think my family overwhelms her at times. See ya.” Matthew waved as he trotted off.

  Ginger waved back. She knew how Annie felt. Captain Zelinsky had certainly overwhelmed her. And he hadn’t been happy about a welcome-home parade. Not one bit. How would he take a welcome-home party with his huge family?

  * * *

  Zach woke with a start. His fists were full of sheet and bedspread and his T-shirt stuck to his back. He looked at the clock blaring red numbers that read 5:15 a.m., and swung his legs over the side of the bed. With his elbows resting on flannel-covered knees, he forced the shaking to stop by breathing deep.

  A soft knock followed by the creak of the door confirmed that he woke someone else up with his thrashing. “Zach?”

  “I’m okay, Mom. Go back to bed.” He hoped she’d leave but knew otherwise. She was his mom. She’d try to make things all better like always, but he didn’t have a skinned knee. This couldn’t be healed with a kiss and a cartoon-covered bandage.

  She entered the dark room and sat next to him. “How often?”

  “What?”

  “Do you dream like this?” She spoke softly, not calling them by name.

  He didn’t blame her. He didn’t call them by name either, but he’d definitely had the same nightmare over and over since coming home. Today’s parade, his uniform and the flags must have triggered what he’d tried to bury. But the horror of seeing his men torn to pieces in an ambush wouldn’t stay buried. He’d been helpless then, and he was helpless now.

  He’d led them there.

  Zach let out the breath he’d been holding. “I don’t know. Often enough, I guess.”

  “Oh, honey.” His mom put her hands on his shoulders and kneaded the tight muscles there. She also mumbled under her breath.

  Leaning closer, he realized his mom prayed. For him.

  He closed his eyes, too. Jesus, please...

  He’d taken his Lord’s name in vain way too many times in his life. He’d also said the name in repentance and as a prayer. Now, he begged. For what, he still couldn’t put to words. Peace eluded even though he was out of the service. Even though he’d talked to a counselor at the VA. Even though the mayor had introduced him to the director of the local VA office here. Would it help to keep talking? Zach didn’t think so.

  Buying a building where he could make things with glass might bring him the peace he sought. It’s what he’d planned for after he retired. He just hadn’t figured he’d have to retire this soon.

  God knew he wanted to forget. But some things a person never forgot, including the notification letter that he’d been part of the army’s reduction in force initiative. He’d received a letter during his last deployment that his service was no longer needed.

  He stood and kissed the top of his mother’s head. “Thanks, Mom. Now go back to bed.”

  She searched his eyes. “You’re not going to sleep, are you?”

  “No.” He didn’t want to repeat that dream. “Don’t tell Dad.”

  His mom’s eyes narrowed. “He’d be the right person to talk to. He could introduce you to a friend at the VA office here. They have a program—”

  “No.” Zach cut her off. He’d had enough talking on base. Seeing the hurt look in his mom’s eyes, he softened. “I already met the guy, but not now. Not yet.”

  She didn’t approve, he could plainly see that, but she nodded anyway. Zach’s mother never went back on her word. She’d protected him as a kid. His father hadn’t known about the middle school brawls Zach had been in until many years later.

  “I’m going to the shop to get some work done.” He needed to get settled into his own place where he wouldn’t wake his parents with his dreams. He needed to do something to keep his mind engaged in other realities. He needed to leave.

  His mom gave him a worried look. “Be careful, honey. It’s dark out there.”

  “I will.” He chuckled.

  He knew all about darkness. He’d faced far worse than the winding ten-mile drive into Maple Springs. By the time he’d thrown on clothes, made a thermos filled with coffee and climbed into his Jeep, Zach looked forward to going into town.

  He wanted quiet but not isolation. He’d never been a fan of big crowds, so city life was out. But living atop his own glass studio in a small town that shriveled up to nothing during the winter months was exactly what he’d had in mind when the time came. And that time was now.

  His parents had offered him land to build on, but now more than ever he needed busywork. Distraction from his thoughts. A vision of that perky redhead named Ginger flashed through his mind. She looked too young for him. And cheerful in a cheeky sort of way that intrigued as much as irritated him. She probably hadn’t experienced an unpleasant day in her short life.

  It didn’t take long before he pulled into the narrow back alley that ran the length of one block of Main. Streetlights above gave him plenty of light to see the back entrances of several buildings that were on each side. Each one had its own stout driveway, and he pulled next to a cherry red Volkswagen Beetle with a ladybug decal on its trunk. Right below that was a Love Michigan bumper sticker in the shape of a heart. Hometown pride. Or rather, home state.

  The car had to be Ginger’s. She rented not only her shop but the larger apartment of the two above, on the second floor.

  The woman he’d purchased the building from had tried to make the long-term lease with Ms. Carleton and her tea shop a condition of the purchase. Zach had negotiated those terms down to a year at a time with the promise that he wouldn’t simply kick Ginger to the curb without proper notice.

  Zach had no intention of taking over the whole building just yet. Not until he grew his business. Having a stable rental income right off the bat appealed, but he couldn’t have kept the ridiculously low rent. He’d had to raise it to help cover his loan payment.

  He got out of his Jeep and looked at the car. The VW fit his vibrant tenant with the flaming hair and soft freckles. He heard the back door open, and Ginger stepped outside dressed for a jog. Her reflective striped clothes announced a serious runner.

  “Morning,” he said.

  Startled, she grasped her neck, which was draped with
a pink fleece scarf. “You scared the living daylights out of me!”

  He chuckled.

  She wasn’t nearly as tall as he remembered from the parade, but she wasn’t short, either. In fact, Ms. Carleton was perfectly sized.

  Snow fell softly in the still morning darkness, wetting his face. He realized that he stood in her path and turned sideways, giving her room to pass.

  She flashed him a nervous-looking smile and walked closer, then slipped on the ice.

  He reacted fast.

  Her arm slammed against his, knocking the thermos of coffee out of his hand. It hit the cement with a metallic clink. Zach managed to grab her waist and pulled her close.

  “Oof.” She landed hard against his chest and looked up. “Oh!”

  As if receiving a blow to his head, he lost his bearings staring into her big brown eyes. She made a really nice armful. But before he could shift, or even wrap his other arm around her, she scrambled out of his grasp.

  “Sorry.” With cheeks blazing, Ginger wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she searched the ground.

  He’d forgotten about his thermos but found the silver tube resting against his tire and went for it. She did, too, and they bumped heads.

  Rubbing her forehead, she giggled. The nervous, girlish sound slapped his ears, reminding him that she was too young. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No problem.” He stood, empty-handed. This immediate attraction that flared in him might be a problem. Big problem.

  “I hope it’s not glass inside.”

  “What?” He couldn’t form another word. Ms. Carleton had a way of tying up his tongue.

  “Your thermos. If the center is glass, it’s likely broken.”

  He bent and retrieved his mother’s container and shook it. It rattled like a rice-filled salt shaker. There went his morning coffee. He looked around. “Is there any place I can get a cup of coffee this early?”

  “Not this time of year.” She looked thoughtful a moment and then smiled. She had a beautiful smile. Warm and sunny. “I make a mean cup of spiced chai if you like tea.”

  “I don’t.”

  She shrugged. “The least I can do is fix you a cup of coffee then. I have a single-serving machine inside and there might be some coffee packs left over from my Christmas help if you’re interested.”

  “Yeah, sure.” He followed her and tossed the broken thermos in the outside trash bin.

  She pulled a small bundle of keys from the zippered pocket of her fleece jacket and unlocked the back door. There was one entrance into a small foyer with two doors leading to their respective shops and a flight of stairs up to their apartments above. She flicked on the lights and stepped into the back room of her shop. “In here.”

  The first thing that hit Zach was the pleasant scent of cinnamon and something more subtle but sweet. He scanned the relatively bare shelves with rolls of Christmas-colored wrapping paper and bows and wicker baskets. There was a small table with a couple of chairs shoved against a wall opposite a microwave, half fridge and counter with sink. Magazines littered that table.

  “Your break room?” he asked.

  “And lunch room and basket-making room and office. You name it, this is it. I have a college girl who works for me during the summer months and over Christmas break. She drinks coffee, so there might still be some in here.” She dug into a wire basket of little plastic containers and lined up three, side by side. “Take your pick, mocha or hazelnut flavored and plain.”

  “Plain.”

  He watched while Ginger inserted the container of coffee into the machine. Then she slipped a mug under the spout. She didn’t wear a trace of makeup that he could tell. And she looked about college aged, even though he knew she couldn’t be that young. Maybe midtwenties.

  Still, a baby compared with his thirty-eight years.

  “It’ll take a few minutes to warm up.” She leaned against the counter. “Cream or sugar?”

  “Just black.”

  They fell silent while the coffee machine revved and beeped.

  He nodded toward her store. “Mind if I take a look?”

  “Go ahead. The light’s on the right-side wall.”

  He was already in motion and gave a cursory glance at the racks of spices and huge glass jars of what looked like dried-up twigs and leaves. Decorative tins and teapots lined one wall. The Spice of Life was a nice play on words. Cute. Like the owner.

  “Many of those teapots were made by Sally, the woman who used to own this building.” Ginger stood next to him and offered a cup of steaming, strong-smelling coffee.

  He accepted the mug with a nod and took a deep sip. “I never met Sally. I dealt with her Realtor for the most part.”

  “She’s a super nice old lady. Our shops connect through that sliding glass door.” She pointed at their shared wall that was mostly glass. “Sally and I left it open during business hours. Comes in handy watching each other’s store, and we shared many of the same customers.”

  “Hmm.” Probably a good idea to continue. Especially since he was going it alone until he knew what kind of income he might expect.

  “Well, sorry to push you out, but I really need to get my run in before a chamber staff meeting later this morning. You can return the mug later.”

  He held up his coffee. “Thanks.”

  “Sure. We have an open chamber meeting later this week. You should attend, meet the other merchants and see how we can help support your business in this community.”

  “I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t much for local politics, nor was he good at mingling.

  She gave him a smile that nearly knocked him over. “There’s really good food. The fancy dinner club around the corner is sponsoring it this month. You won’t be sorry.”

  Did she realize the power she wielded with a simple look? “Maybe.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Uh, yeah.” He made his escape before he said something stupid.

  Ginger Carleton was cheerful with tart-sweetness rolled into one attractive package. Not that he’d ask her out. Dating his tenant would be completely inappropriate, like dating a woman under his command. And he was tired of seeing people under his command damaged—or worse. Not to mention that she was too young for him and better kept off-limits. Way off-limits.

  * * *

  “Well, Ginger, what do you think? Can you get the merchants on board?” Brady Wilson, the chamber president, waited for her response.

  Ginger leaned back in her chair. The scowling face of Captain Zach came to mind, but she pushed that image aside. As liaison between the merchants and the chamber, it was her job to rally the troops, so to speak. “I don’t know. I mean, other than the slight chance of our town being highlighted in the statewide tourism campaign, what’s in it for them?”

  Or her, for that matter.

  Decorating specifically for Valentine’s Day was an expense she hadn’t planned for. She had a few things, everyone did, but a big storefront display contest meant going all out. Something everyone did at Christmas. She couldn’t afford to buy new stuff to do that. She could barely afford to restock her inventory.

  “We could award prizes,” the chamber secretary offered.

  They’d done that for their Christmas Shopper’s Walk. Ginger had heard several complaints that the judging was biased. The same couple of businesses won every year regardless of the decorations used.

  Ginger bounced the eraser top of her pencil against her notepad. “One prize, a really good one, and the judging should come from the community. Something they can be part of, like maybe anonymous online voting on the chamber website.”

  Brady narrowed his eyes. “We’ve already paid for our statewide advertising. That could be the grand prize. A year’s worth of advertising across the state, as long as t
he Maple Springs Chamber of Commerce is somehow listed, too.”

  Ginger’s mouth watered. She could barely afford to advertise, and then only with a few local print runs. Statewide exposure was definitely a grand prize. At least, it was for her. It might make a difference in her online sales, maybe even her summertime foot traffic.

  “I like it!” Ginger finally said.

  Brady clapped his hands together once. “Then let’s get moving.”

  The sound startled the treasurer, who’d nodded off during the meeting.

  “I’ll let the bureau of tourism know our plans and invite them for the big reveal. Just maybe, with some hype, they’ll send someone up here. If we can show Maple Springs as a place for lovers on Valentine’s Day, we might have a shot at making the state campaign.” Brady stood, looking thoughtful. “Yes, yes, that’s our theme—Maple Springs Is for Lovers. Ginger, get the word out. Sandy, draft a newsletter today and email it. Let’s get this done now!”

  Ginger held up her hand. “Whoa, Brady. When will we announce the winner and how?”

  He was pacing the floor of the small boardroom, clearly excited. “Maple Springs is the place for lovers. Let’s prove that on Valentine’s Day. We need something to draw couples downtown other than restaurant specials. But what?”

  “Something romantic,” Sandy said.

  “I’m stumped.” Ginger wasn’t one for romantic daydreams. Men on white horses didn’t exist in her world.

  Brady laughed. “I rely on you ladies for that insight.”

  “My brother has one of those fancy horse-drawn carriages. Maybe we can hire him for the weekend.” The treasurer yawned.

  Brady grinned. “Perfect. Let’s make it so.”

  Ginger shared a look with Sandy. This might actually work.

  The area restaurants usually ran Valentine’s Day specials, but they could ramp it up this year. And if the town’s merchants cleared away their old Christmas greenery in exchange for hearts and cherubs, downtown would look fresh and pretty. With a town made over in time for Valentine’s Day, they might even lure skiers away from the hills and into the shops. She’d have to find a Valentine’s Day tea blend sure to spark romance.