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The Last Bachelor
Judy Christenberry
Mills & Boon Silhouette
Thanks to some past mistakes, Joe Turner wasn't looking for anything permanent. So when he entered into a green-card marriage to keep his well-meaning family off his back, Joe never thought wedding Ginger Walton, the European minx who waited tables at the Lone Star Country Club, would arouse his every protective instinct.Joe knew Ginger was running from something, but her fresh-faced beauty and effervescent charm could've fooled anyone, and did–especially the close-knit Turner clan. But once the masquerade was exposed, would he really be able to let her go?


CLUB TIMES
For Members’ Eyes Only
An offer Joe Turner can’t refuse!
After a heavy gossip session in the Yellow Rose Café, I’ve made it my mission to nail down Joe Turner to the fine town of Mission Creek. Sure, you can describe his bedroom eyes and broad shoulders until your tongue goes dry, but this won’t be worth beans if he goes back to the Midwest. We know who to contact if we need cement blocks, but that’s only for drastic measures, Mr. Del Brio.
Meanwhile, I’m feeling in the mood for some sunshine. The closest I get is when calling Tyler Murdoch so I can listen to his tales about the hot jungles of Mezcaya. He keeps hanging up on me, thinking that I’m breathing too heavily into the phone. But we know how cold it can get in Texas, and darned if I’m not the only one who has respiratory ailments this time of year.
Nadine Delarue’s bronchitis nearly killed us all.
Let’s welcome Marisa Rodriguez to the fold. We’re happy to have you as a new member of the Lone Star Country Club! And congratulations on snagging one of the hunkiest bachelors in Mission Creek!
Get ready to spring into action at the Lone Star Country Club. We are happy to serve you…Texas-style!
About the Author


JUDY CHRISTENBERRY
was born and raised in Texas. While she’d participated in some continuity stories, she’d never had one set in Texas. When she heard about the LONE STAR COUNTRY CLUB program, she asked to be included. The continuity stories draw from all kinds of experiences. She was once a foreign language teacher (French) and it helped out this time creating a character who was new to America.
“Writing entertains the writer as much as the reader,” she says. As the mother of two daughters, she finds everything in life contributes to the store of information that she uses in her stories. “Even difficulties teach us new experiences. Thanks for the opportunities.”

The Last Bachelor
Judy Christenberry


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Welcome to the


Where Texas society reigns supreme—and appearances are everything.
The last remaining bachelor of the five Turner men has come home…and has found himself falling for his new green-card wife.
Joe Turner: In order to protect an Estonian damsel-in-distress—and get his well-meaning family off his back—Joe shocked the Turner clan by marrying Ginger Walton aka Virvela Waltek. The marriage-in-name-only worked out so well that everyone fell in love with his new bride…including Joe!
Ginger Walton: Being surrounded by Joe’s family was better than anything Ginger had ever imagined. But it was nothing compared to being wrapped up in his arms! After fleeing a terrifying situation, Ginger felt safe with Joe. But how much longer would Ginger be able to pretend her feelings for her soon-to-be “husband” were only make-believe?
Mission Creek Crisis: Luke Callaghan has returned to Mission Creek and received nothing short of a spectacular hero’s welcome. However, his joy is short-lived when he learns about the kidnapping of little Lena…his daughter!




Dedicated to Barbara White-Rayczek, a friend in deed, and Christina Willi, my daughter.
Without those two, my book would never have gotten finished.

Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen

Prologue
She froze, her hands full of orders ready to deliver to the latest table of diners.
Her heart pounded in her suddenly tight chest. She couldn’t breathe. Nor could she think. What should she do?
Dashing back into the kitchen, she set down the plates of food and grabbed another waitress. “I have to leave. I feel very sick. Can you take these orders to table number seven? They’re big tippers,” she added as an incentive.
“I’ve got a lot of tables myself,” the waitress complained.
She dug her hand into her apron pocket and pulled out five dollars from her tip money. “Here, keep this, too. I’d really appreciate it.”
Then she dashed out the door that led to the parking lot, assuming the food would be delivered. Right now, she had more to worry about than the people dining at the Lone Star Country Club.
She’d known this day would come. She’d prepared for it. But, oh, she’d prayed—hoped—that there would be a miracle in this blessed land of the free.
But no. Today it had ended.

One
Joe Turner drove up the drive of the Lone Star Country Club. It was a little late for lunch, which meant the café wouldn’t be packed. Maybe he’d have a little time to chat with his favorite waitress.
He chuckled. He was a fool, of course. Ginger Walton probably wasn’t even twenty-one, and he was thirty-four. If he were precocious, he could claim to be old enough to be her father. Nevertheless, she caught his eye.
And every other man’s in the place.
It wasn’t her curves that drew all the men’s attention, though Ginger certainly had some striking ones. It wasn’t even her auburn hair, beautiful complexion or her big blue eyes. It was all of those things, actually, but it was her appearance of innocence that touched every man’s heart. At least it did Joe’s. He always had the belief that she was a princess in disguise who needed rescuing.
“Right,” he muttered, telling himself he was crazy.
The well-groomed drive wound its way to the entrance of the country club. Joe was almost there when out of the corner of his eye he caught the color of the waitresses’ yellow aprons they wore in the Yellow Rose Café. One of the waitresses was running from the parking lot toward the main highway.
Almost immediately he realized it was Ginger, her smooth hair blowing away from her face as she hurried. He knew she didn’t have a car, but usually she caught a ride with one of the other girls. Besides, he knew she worked until nine o’clock on Fridays.
Joe picked up speed and followed the circle up the other side, toward the highway. He pulled in front of Ginger and stopped, hurrying out of his car to intercept her.
“Ginger? Is something wrong?”
“Oh, Mr. Turner! No. Nothing is wrong.”
“Then why are you crying?”
She self-consciously wiped her cheeks. “Uh, I—I don’t feel well. I must go home.” She started around him.
“Get in my car. I’ll drive you home.”
“No, I—” As she looked back toward the country club, she evidently changed her mind. “Okay.”
Joe looked behind Ginger and saw two men in dark suits getting into a dark car—a government car from the looks of it. With a frown, he slid behind the wheel again as she got in.
“Who are they?” he asked. He turned to look at Ginger, only to discover she’d slid down in the seat, as if she were hiding. “Ginger, what’s going on?”
“I—I can’t—Please just take me home.”
Her normally pale cheeks were flushed and tears gathered in her light blue eyes. Joe could never refuse to help her. He put his Lexus in Drive and started toward the small apartment where Ginger lived. When he’d first realized Ginger lived in such a tiny place, he’d tried to talk Harvey Small, the manager of the club, into giving Ginger a pay increase so she could afford a nicer apartment.
Joe didn’t like Harvey, but the man assured him Ginger was making good money. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t spend her pay on better accommodations.
Joe drove slowly, studying Ginger out of the corner of his eye, trying to figure out what was wrong. She didn’t give him any clues.
“Are you nauseated?” he asked.
“No.” She stared straight ahead, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, a frown on her face.
“I could take you to the doctor.”
“No! I—I just need to go home.”
“Okay,” he agreed, trying to sound calm. But something was wrong.
They approached the small apartment house, and Joe figured he’d done his best for her. She obviously didn’t want any help.
Suddenly she moaned. “No! No, no, no!”
He stopped at once. “Ginger, what’s wrong? I’ll help if you’ll tell me.”
“No one can help me now.” Her mournful words broke his heart.
“Sweetheart, I promise I’ll do what I can.”
“Take me to…the park, please.” She had her eyes closed. Then she opened them and hurriedly said, “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” The small park across the street from the apartments had a few picnic tables and a basketball court that drew the neighborhood boys after school. Right now it appeared deserted.
He parked his Lexus in the empty parking lot. When he turned around, he saw Ginger staring into his rearview mirror. That was when he noticed the dark sedan parked near Ginger’s apartment. The same car from the country club.
“I think it’s about time you explained to me what’s going on. Obviously those two men are upsetting you. Shall I go talk to them?”
“No!” she shouted, then seemed to pull herself together. “Mr. Turner, you’ve always been so nice, so generous, I know you want to help. But there’s nothing you can do. If you don’t know what’s wrong, then you can’t be accused of anything.”
“Accused? Accused of what? There’s nothing illegal about giving a ride to a friend.”
Ginger looked at the man beside her with gratitude. An architect from Chicago, Joe had come back to his hometown a few months ago to supervise the rebuilding on the country club, after a bomb had destroyed the Men’s Grill restaurant. He’d been friendly ever since the first time she’d served him. Ginger had loved waiting on him not only because he was handsome, with mahogany hair and chocolate eyes, but because he treated her with respect. He didn’t try to get familiar with her or ask her out. Now he called her his friend.
But she couldn’t get him in trouble. With a sigh, she suggested he go back to the country club.
“Are you coming with me?”
“No, I can’t.”
“So what are you going to do?”
She didn’t have an answer for him. As long as those men were there, waiting for her, she couldn’t go home. And she couldn’t leave until she got her money out of the apartment. Why hadn’t she put it in a bank? Instead she’d cashed her paychecks and hidden in her apartment the money she didn’t need to pay bills. All so she could leave quickly when she had to.
“Ginger?”
It took her a moment to remember Joe had asked her a question. What was she going to do? “Uh, I don’t know.”
“Are those men looking for you?”
“They are looking for Virvela Waltek,” she admitted with a sob.
Joe frowned at her. “Who’s that?”
She sniffed. It was so very hard to admit the truth. Finally she whispered, “Me.”
She didn’t want to look at him, expecting him to be horrified by her deception. When she looked at his handsome face, however, she didn’t see disgust.
He leaned closer. “I knew you had a little accent, but I couldn’t identify it. Where are you from?”
“Estonia. I came to America three years ago. I was sixteen.” It seemed so very long ago.
“Good Lord, you’re only nineteen?”
“Almost twenty.”
He smiled ruefully. “I’m fifteen years older than you.”
She shrugged her shoulders, as if that didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if he was romantically interested in her. A good-looking man in his prime, educated, wealthy, Joe Turner could have any woman he wanted.
“So, are you here illegally? Is that why you’re scared?”
“Not really. But…my mother has refused to sponsor me now.”
This time she had shocked him, she could tell.
“Your mother? Your mother sicced the INS on you?”
Ginger nodded, keeping her gaze lowered. It was such a shameful thing, for her own mother to turn her back on her. She’d warned Ginger, of course, thinking it would make her come home and do what her mother wanted her to do. But it hadn’t.
His stomach growled and he apologized. “I’m sorry, I’m hungry. How about we go to the Dairy Queen and grab something to eat?”
“No. They would find out that you hid me.”
“Sweetheart,” he drawled, and she almost grinned. She loved it when he sounded like John Wayne. “They won’t think I know your identity. Besides, they won’t think to look there.”
“I can get out now and you can go back to the club and have a nice meal.” She was determined to do the right thing for this kind man.
He started his car and backed out.
“Wait, I have to get out.”
“Nope. You don’t even have a sweater to keep the chill off.”
Usually late March in this part of Texas was warm, but a storm had come through the day before and the wind was still blowing, the air chilly.
“Please, I can—”
“Come with me.” It was more an order than a request.
Two minutes later he pulled into the Dairy Queen and led her inside. “Let’s take the back booth. No one will see us there.”
She obediently slid into the booth, facing the door.
“I’ll be right back,” he assured her. He ordered some food at the counter and came back to join her.
“Now, tell me why your mother would try to get you thrown out of the country. That seems pretty weird to me.”
“It is better that you know nothing. I shouldn’t have told you my real name. When they ask you questions, you must say you think I am Ginger.”
“Maybe they just have some questions for you and that’s all. I don’t see why they’d want to kick you out. You’re a model citizen.”
Her chest constricted. “I—I don’t have a sponsor. My mother wants me to—I won’t.”
“Won’t what?”
“Please, Mr. Turner—”
“I think you should call me Joe, don’t you? You’re not waiting on my table now. We’re talking. We’re friends. Friends call each other by their first names.”
Before she could protest, one of the employees brought over a tray of food and put it down on the table. “Here you go,” the woman said. “Need anything else?”
“No, thank you,” Joe replied. After the woman walked away, he grinned at Ginger. “She doesn’t quite have your style, but the food’s hot. I got each of us a hamburger. You haven’t eaten, have you?”
She shook her head.
“There’s French fries, too, and a Coke.” He gently shoved her food toward her. “You have to eat so I don’t feel bad eating in front of you.”
She took the food. Who knew when she’d have a meal again? She’d best be practical.
Joe was relieved that she accepted the food. She was looking pretty fragile. After she’d had several bites, he asked casually, “What is it your mother wants you to do? And where is she?”
Ginger looked up from her food. “She’s in New York. She married a man there.”
“So she got her citizenship because she’s married to an American? How long has she been married to him?”
“Three years. He came to Estonia and he proposed. We came to America three months later and they married at once.”
“She knew him before?”
Ginger shook her head.
Joe stared at her. She was a beautiful, delicate young woman. If her mother looked anything like her, he wasn’t surprised that a man would marry her at once. “So why would she want to send you back to Estonia? She might never see you again.”
Tears pooled in her blue eyes again and she looked away.
“You’ve got to tell me, sweetheart. Otherwise, I can’t help you.”
“You can’t help me, anyway. My mother will not change her mind.”
“Just tell me,” he urged softly, reaching across the narrow table to lay his warm hand over hers.
“She wants me to marry.”
“Whom?”
Her cheeks flushed again, as if the information shamed her.
“Do you know him?”
She nodded her head, but she didn’t look up.
“You don’t love him?”
“No!” When he didn’t speak again, she finally said, “My mother married a man who is a member of the mob in New York. I believe that’s what you call it, right?”
“Yeah,” he said grimly. He didn’t like the way the story was going.
“My stepfather’s friend is his boss. He decided I would make a good bride, but I said no.”
“How old is he?”
With her head still down, she whispered, “Fifty-eight.”
“Damn!” Joe cursed. That kind of a marriage was barbaric, trying to force a beautiful young woman into a marriage with a man three times her age. “You were right to refuse.”
“Even if it means my mother is beaten?” When she lifted her gaze to him, he read the guilt and pain there. He squeezed her hand.
“It’s not your fault.”
She looked away. “I was eighteen. I believed all the wonderful things they say about America. I thought I was free, that I could choose.” She sobbed, before she could compose herself. “I ran away.”
“Good for you.”
His reaction seemed to surprise her, but the thought of her being married to an old man, one involved in crime, made his gut clench. “I think if we explain the problem to the government men, they won’t send you back.”
“They will,” she assured him, fear in her eyes. “I must go away where they can’t find me.”
“Ginger, I don’t think you can hide that easily. You’ll need to work. They’ll be able to find you.”
“I saved all I could. I can make it for a while.”
“Let me contact a lawyer. There’s got to be a better way.”
“Lawyers are very expensive. I cannot—”
“One of my brothers is a lawyer. He’ll help us.” He took a bite of his hamburger, but he kept his gaze on her.
She shook her head. “I don’t want other people to be punished. I don’t even know your brother. I cannot shift my troubles to him. Or to you.”
“Ginger, I want to help.”
“No. I must go.” Without waiting for his agreement, she slipped out of the booth and headed for the door, leaving her food uneaten for the most part.
Joe stared after her. Then he wrapped up his hamburger and fries, grabbed his drink and hurried after her. By the time he got to the car, she was nowhere in sight. But he couldn’t stop trying to help her. Getting in his car, he drove the two blocks back to her apartment. He scanned the area and didn’t see the government car. Maybe they had given up and returned to wherever their office was located.
He found a parking place. Leaving his food in the car, he locked the door and headed for Ginger’s apartment. He only knew which it was because he’d discovered Ginger walking home one Friday night and had insisted on driving her home. He’d even walked her to her door, telling her it wasn’t safe to just drop her off.
He knocked on the door. “Ginger? It’s Joe. Let me in, please.”
She opened the door slightly. “Go away, Joe. I’m packing.”
“Don’t go, Ginger. I can help you.”
“No, I can’t—”
“Miss Waltek?”
The two men in dark suits were standing behind Joe, staring at Ginger.
Joe saw panic on Ginger’s face and regretted his attempt at intervention. Maybe she would have gotten away if he hadn’t held her up. But he knew better than that. Besides, a life on the run would be hard for her.
Her head fell, and she stared at her feet. Then she looked up. “Yes, I am Virvela Waltek.” She stuck out her wrists, as if she expected to be cuffed.
The men stared at her in surprise. “We just wanted to ask a few questions. May we come in?”
Her expression blank, she moved back and nodded.
After the two men had stepped around Joe and entered the apartment, they tried to close the door.
“I’m coming in, too.”
“Who are you?” one of the men asked.
“Who are you?” Joe demanded in return. After all, the men hadn’t identified themselves.
“I’m Carl Fisher and my partner is Craig Caldwell. We’re INS officers. And you?”
“Joe Turner, a friend of Ginger’s.”
“That is not her name,” Fisher pointed out.
“It’s what I call her.” He wanted to plow his fist into the man’s face, but reminded himself they were only doing their jobs. Still, if they tried to shut him out, he would fight them.
“Miss Waltek, do you mind if he comes in?” Fisher asked.
“He hasn’t done anything wrong!” she exclaimed.
“They know that, sweetheart. I just want to be with you, in case you need me. Okay?”
She nodded.
Joe shut the door behind him, looking around at the flimsy table and four chairs, one beat-up sofa and an old lamp. When Ginger said nothing else, still looking panic-stricken, he gestured to the table and chairs. “Shall we sit down?”
The two agents turned to the table and Joe reached out for Ginger’s hand. “Come on, honey.” He led her to the table and took the seat beside her, keeping her hand in his.
Fisher folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Miss Waltek, your mother has informed us she is withdrawing her sponsorship of you for citizenship. Can you tell us why?”
Ginger said nothing, only shrugged her shoulders.
The other man, Caldwell, added, “Your mother has told us you are working as a prostitute.”
“No!” Ginger slammed the table and stood up.
“Gentlemen,” Joe began, keeping his temper with deep breaths, “that is not true. I’ve known Ginger for the past six months. I can vouch for her.”
Both men ignored him and stared at Ginger, who reluctantly sat down.
“Why would your mother say such a thing?” Fisher asked.
“She—she is trying to force me to come home,” Ginger said, her voice trembling.
“Tell them everything, honey,” Joe urged. “Tell them the truth.”
“Yes, tell us the truth,” Caldwell encouraged.
Ginger stared at the table, visibly swallowing, before she spoke. Then, shaking, she explained why her mother was trying to force her to return to New York.
“The mob? You mean the Mafia?” Fisher asked.
Joe stepped in. “Yeah. Look, the man her mother wants her to marry is fifty-eight! And her mother is being beaten because Ginger ran away.”
“Beaten? A woman can get a divorce and keep her citizenship if she’s being abused.”
“He’ll kill her,” Ginger whispered.
Joe’s feelings toward Ginger deepened. This poor kid didn’t have many choices. She was so alone.
“Can’t something be worked out?” he asked.
“Maybe,” Fisher replied. “But we’ll have to take her with us.”
Ginger pressed her back against the dilapidated chair, as if trying to get far away from the agents.
“No!” Joe shouted.
Caldwell bristled. “Now, sir—”
Joe stared at Ginger, trying to prepare her for what he was going to say. “She can’t leave. We’re planning to be married. But Ginger wanted to wait until she was a citizen.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but—”
“I’ll take her to Vegas tonight and we’ll get married. Then she can become a U.S. citizen, right?”
“Unless we determine she married only for that reason.” Fisher stared at him. “And you’ll have to remain married for a year.”
“I already told you we’re planning to marry. Give us twenty-four hours and we’ll answer any of your questions. Ginger will be my wife and nothing can be done to her, without an investigation. We’ll pass any test you give us, right, Ginger?”
She stared at him, her mouth open.

Two
“Did you plan on marrying this man?” Fisher asked Ginger.
Joe held his breath. Would she understand what he was offering? Could she play the role of an adoring fiancée?
“Yes. But I felt ashamed to come to him without my citizenship. I thought it would be better to wait,” she said, her cheeks inflamed. “I didn’t want him to be ashamed of me.”
Apparently her response had the right tone because the two agents looked at each other and then stood. Fisher said, “Excuse me a minute. My partner and I have to talk.”
Knowing the men were watching them even as they moved to the door to confer, Joe leaned over to Ginger and brushed his lips over hers. “Don’t worry,” he whispered.
Ginger stared at him, questions in her gaze, but he couldn’t say anything now.
The two men came back to them. Fisher, obviously the senior partner, said, “Here’s the deal. We’ll give you a week. If you appear at our office with a legitimate marriage certificate, we will give you a temporary green card, Ms. Waltek. Then, sometime in the next three months, you’ll be called in for an interview. If you pass the interview, you’ll receive your permanent green card.”
“Perfect,” Joe agreed, a big smile on his face. He noticed that Ginger simply stared at them.
Fisher looked directly at Joe. “But if she disappears,” he warned, his tone serious, “we will file charges against you, Mr. Turner, for helping her escape.” He turned to Ginger. “Do you understand, Ms. Waltek? Your friend will go to jail if you run away.”
In a whisper, she said, “Yes, I understand.”

Five minutes later, Ginger and Joe were alone.
“We lied!” Ginger whispered, as if she thought the two men might be standing on the other side of her door, waiting for them to emerge.
“But it was for a good cause,” Joe assured her. “Why don’t you find something to change into, and I’ll call Harvey and get you a couple of days off. Or I can give him your notice if you want.”
“My notice?” she asked.
“You know, let him know that you’re going to quit your job.”
Her eyes grew even larger and panic filled her face. “No! No, I must have a job. Please don’t!”
“But, Ginger, we’ll be married. You won’t need to work.” He squeezed her hand again, and realized he liked touching her. “I know you’ve been taking night classes. Now you can go to school full-time.”
“No! I must continue to work. I must pay for myself. I can’t shift my difficulties onto you. I won’t run away, so you won’t get in trouble, but I may have to go back to Estonia soon if we don’t—I have another week. I must work all I can.”
Joe gave her a strange look. What was wrong? She had promised not to disappear.
“You have to take a couple of days off so we can go to Vegas.”
“Vegas?”
“I mean Las Vegas, the place where people go to get married quickly. We can leave tomorrow morning and be married before evening. Then we’ll come back the next day. After that, you’ll have at least three months. You can earn more money.”
“I can’t allow you to make such a sacrifice. It will shame you, and your family.”
“No, it won’t. Actually, it will help me.”
She frowned. “How can that be?”
“Because I’m the only guy not married in my family. Everyone’s been setting me up with blind dates and insisting I bring a woman to family occasions. They’re driving me crazy. Now I can take you, and everyone will be happy.”
Ginger stared at him. Why was he not married? He was a handsome man, educated, not like that beast her mother wanted her to marry. How could Joe have no lady in his life? She stared at him.
“Don’t worry, Ginger. I know I’m too old for you. I’ll let you go after the year when your citizenship is official. It’s just so you get your green card.”
“You would do that?”
“Of course.”
She dropped her head again, trying to think. The panic still lingered, making it difficult to think clearly. “I must call Daisy.”
“Why?” Joe asked.
“She—she’s my friend. We tell each other things.”
“Does she know about your being from Estonia?” he asked, sounding like he might be jealous if Daisy knew her story.
“No. I didn’t tell her everything. I didn’t want her to get in trouble.”
“Then don’t tell her until we return.”
“But—”
“I’d like to invite her to come with us as your maid-of-honor, but Harvey would kill me if I took his two most popular waitresses away at the same time. Now, you start packing. Pick something comfortable to wear on the plane, jeans or something, and pack your fanciest dress for the wedding ceremony. I’ll call Harvey.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Joe stood there, watching Ginger as she crossed the room and opened one of two doors. It was a small closet, but there wasn’t a lot in there. She pulled out a small cloth bag, then a simple blue dress and some sandals.
She hesitated, looking at him, and he hurriedly picked up the phone. He didn’t want to make her self-conscious by staring at her.
He was amazed, however, at how right saving Ginger seemed. He’d always picked up strays as a boy, bringing them home to feed and care for. His mother had believed he’d grow up to be a doctor, but he’d turned to architecture to satisfy his artistic side. He’d once considered becoming a starving artist, though his fiancée had protested his choice and had eventually left him for a man with more money. Joe had concentrated on his career as an architect to show her she’d made a mistake.
He’d avoided women for a while, but then he became the ultimate bachelor. He enjoyed the companionship of many women, but he planned no future with any of them. Ginger, he reminded himself, was too young for any real interest. He was rescuing her, that was all.
“Let me speak to Harvey Small,” he said to the club receptionist when she answered the phone. When Harvey picked up, Joe launched into the reason for his call. “Harvey, this is Joe Turner. I need to borrow Ginger for a couple of days. Is that a problem?”
Harvey didn’t take the request calmly. He poured out demands and questions that Joe had no intention of answering. “I’ll explain later,” he said.
That response didn’t satisfy Harvey.
“Two days, Harvey. That’s all I’m asking.” Joe pulled out the heavy artillery. “Would you prefer her to quit?”
“No! But I don’t see—”
“Harvey, slavery was abolished a long time ago. Ginger has some rights. Now, she’ll be back at work on Monday, and that should be enough to satisfy you.”
With that, he hung up the phone. He didn’t even worry that Harvey might fire Ginger. Joe didn’t want her to work, anyway. However temporary their marriage, she would be his wife. And he would take very good care of her. For a little while, at least, Ginger would not be alone.

Ginger stared out the window of the plane, her brow furrowed. “Are we still in the United States?”
“Of course, honey. Why would you think we weren’t?”
“When we flew to America, it was a long flight. Is America really this big?”
“It’s a lot bigger. Didn’t you fly to Texas when you ran away?”
“No. I—hitchhiked,” she said carefully.
“Lord have mercy, that’s dangerous. You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“No, the people were very nice.”
“Don’t ever do that again. There are some evil people out there.”
“No, Joe, they were very kind.”
“I’m glad, honey, but you’re my responsibility now. I don’t ever want you doing that again.”
“But we are not really—”
Joe covered her mouth with his hand to stop her from finishing her sentence. He leaned closer and whispered, “We don’t ever tell anyone, even strangers, that our marriage isn’t, uh, normal. Okay?”
Her eyes big over his hand, she nodded.
He released her and sat back, drawing a deep breath.
After a moment, Ginger leaned closer to Joe. She whispered, “Won’t everyone think it strange that we came to this place to marry? They will wonder why, won’t they?”
He took her hand in his, realizing he had a lot of questions to answer. Clearly, Ginger had concentrated on her work and her classes at the junior college, but knew very little about American culture. “You’ll see when we get there. A lot of people go to Vegas to marry. No one will think anything about it.”
He believed that, as long as she didn’t say the wrong thing. But he’d be on his guard. Maybe if she said something inappropriate, he’d stop her by kissing her. That would make everyone believe they were newlyweds.
His heart rate tripled just thinking about kissing Ginger. She was so beautiful, so naive and unprotected. He loved the idea of protecting her. He’d never seen himself in the hero role, but it was enticing, especially when he saw that emotion in her gaze. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her smooth skin.
When she jumped in surprise, he leaned closer. “People will expect me to touch you, Ginger. Try not to act so surprised. In private I’ll leave you alone.”
She frowned. “You will?”
“Yes, of course. I promise.”
“But I will be your wife.”
His heart beat faster. “Yes, but not—” He stopped himself. Great. Now he was the one having problems with their secret. “We’ll talk later.”
The pilot spoke over the loudspeaker. “We’re now approaching Las Vegas airport, so please be seated and fasten your seat belts. Thank you for flying with us today.”
Joe leaned over and snapped her seat belt.
“I can do it,” she protested gently.
“I know, but I like to help you. In a few minutes we’ll be on the ground. Are you excited?”
She met his gaze briefly, then looked away. “Of course.” She thought that was the answer he wanted. But she hated the idea that she was trapping him into marriage.
Joe was a kind man, offering her his protection. She must try not to take advantage of him. Some of the men at the club, especially when they were in the Men’s Grill temporary facilities, where their wives never appeared, were eager to take advantage of her, not to protect her. But she’d always turned them down. She’d never had to turn Joe down. He had never seemed interested in her in that way.
She sent up a small prayer that she would never shame Joe, that she would repay his kindness with loyalty and patience.
The pilot set the plane down smoothly, and when they were parked at the gate, Joe stood in the aisle to gather their luggage from the overhead bin.
Her cloth bag looked shabby beside his sleek leather one, but he showed no concern about what people might think. “Come on, Ginger. Time for us to go.”
She slipped out of her seat and stood beside Joe, ready to go where he led her.

Much to Ginger’s surprise, they didn’t take a taxi when they exited the airport. A man was standing on the sidewalk with a sign with Joe’s name on it.
“Does he know you?” she whispered to Joe as he waved to the man.
“No, honey, I hired him to meet us.”
“Oh.”
The man opened the back door to his limo and waved for her to enter. She slipped onto the seat and stared, then scooted over as Joe followed. “Joe, there’s room for many more people,” she whispered as the car began to move.
“Yeah, but it will just be the two of us. So we can have privacy.”
“But everyone is staring.”
“Don’t worry, they can’t see us. Now, we’re going to go to fill out papers and then find a marriage chapel. They’ll have a room where you can change. Is that all right? You have your dress ready?”
“Yes.” Her dress was a simple sheath in pale blue that her mother had made her for her own marriage to Harold, Ginger’s stepfather.
Something in her voice must have worried Joe. “Should we go shopping first and buy you a new wedding gown?”
“No! It would cost a lot of money. It’s not necessary.”
He gave her a strange look. “I have plenty of money, Ginger. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“The bride is supposed to pay for the wedding.”
“No, you have that wrong. The bride’s family is supposed to pay. And since you don’t have a family, I’ll take care of everything.”
She said nothing else, but she determined to keep down the cost of their wedding. After all, he was doing her a favor.
By the end of the evening, Joe was frustrated. All he’d bought her was a small bouquet of flowers. But he had to admit Ginger looked beautiful in her simple dress. The pale blue color complemented her auburn hair and blue eyes. And the ceremony, although brief, achieved their goal.
Afterward Ginger was ready to get back on a plane and return to Texas.
“No, honey, I made us a reservation. We have the honeymoon suite at the Bellagio.”
“What is that?”
“It’s one of the hotels on the strip.”
When she discovered the suite consisted of a huge space with a tub big enough to hold half a dozen people and several bedrooms and a living area, she told him they should ask for a smaller place so they could save money.
He refused. He needed plenty of room so he could handle the desire to put his arms around her. Especially as the sun went down.
“Will we leave in the morning?” she asked anxiously.
“Our flight’s around noon.”
She frowned and said nothing.
“We’re going to dinner in ten minutes. Okay?”
“Why don’t we eat here? Look at all this fruit.” She gestured to the delicious-looking fruit basket on the cocktail table. “That would be enough for dinner.”
“Not for me. Besides, a wedding dinner is traditional.”
She kept frowning.
After dinner, Joe took her to the casino. He changed dollar bills into coins and handed her some, explaining she should put one in a slot machine. She slipped the coin in. He told her to pull the handle.
She did so and waited.
With a kiss on her smooth cheek, he said, “Sorry, you didn’t win. Here’s another one.”
She stared at the coin he held out and then at him. “Why?”
“To try again. To see if you win.”
“But I didn’t.”
“So you try again.”
“No! I will not give your money away.”
“But it’s supposed to be fun.” He waved his arm. “All these people are playing the slot machines. Don’t you want to?”
“No. A good wife does not give her husband’s money away,” she assured him, a determined look on her face.
He sighed. “Okay, we’ll try again later. Do you want to see a show?”
“What kind of show?”
He tried to explain what was available. The only thing she showed interest in were the famous white Bengal tigers, but that show was sold out.
Finally, he had an idea. “How about art? The Bellagio has an art gallery with famous paintings. Would you like to see them?”
Her eyes glowed. “Oh, I would love that. One day in New York I got to go to a museum. The paintings were beautiful.”
Joe shook his head in amazement and took his bride to the art gallery. Slowly they looked at the paintings. In college, Joe had studied art, along with architecture and in his spare time did some sketching. But he enjoyed the evening more than he had thought he would, mostly because Ginger liked looking at the paintings, too.
But he didn’t think anyone else would believe him. A night in Vegas with no gambling, no alcohol and no sex. He’d ordered a bottle of champagne for their wedding supper, but Ginger had preferred Coca-Cola. No bright lights, big stars or crowds of people. Just art, whispered comments and privacy.
After the gallery, Ginger was ready to turn in. “Do you mind?” she asked. “I’m tired. So much has happened in two days.”
He put his arm around her shoulder and led her to the elevator. “You’re right, honey. Will you be okay if I come back down for a while?”
“You like to gamble?” she asked, surprised.
“Sometimes.” Like when I have to leave you alone, he said to himself. Otherwise you couldn’t keep me from your side.
With a cautious smile, she told him good-night once they were in the suite. He kissed her cheek and turned away. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
She nodded and disappeared into the big bedroom.
Wearily, he turned away. He didn’t want to gamble. But he’d go put in an hour on the slot machines, or maybe blackjack, to pass the time. Then maybe he could go to sleep without thinking about Ginger in the massive bed in the next room. Or, maybe more accurately, about joining her in the big bed.
He hadn’t realized resisting temptation would be so difficult.

When Joe awoke the next morning, about nine, he showered and shaved, then dressed before discovering Ginger poring over a book in the living room.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
Ginger looked up in surprise. “Oh! I didn’t know you were awake. I’m studying history. I have a test Tuesday night.”
He shook his head. That wasn’t something he’d brag about: his wife studying while on her honeymoon. “Ready for some breakfast?”
She agreed, though she said she’d eaten some fruit when she got up at seven.
“I thought you’d sleep late.”
“No, I usually get up at seven. Do you sleep late every morning?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I guess I just stayed up too late last night.” Actually, he’d stayed downstairs until the early morning, trying to tire himself out.
“Did you lose a lot of money?” she asked, that frown already in place.
“No, in fact I won.”
The frown disappeared, but she didn’t show any greedy elation.
“So come on,” he urged her. “Let’s get some breakfast. I can pay for it with my winnings.”
“I can pay for myself. I didn’t pay my share for dinner last night.”
Joe huffed. “I’m the husband. I’ll pay for our meals.”
“But that’s not fair. You’re helping me. You shouldn’t have to pay.”
He studied her clear eyes, her earnest expression. Crossing to her side, he took her shoulders in his hands. “Ginger, if we’re going to convince people that we are truly married, we’re going to have to act like it. I’ll pay for our living expenses. You’ll take care of cooking occasionally, cleaning a little. That’s how it works.”
“But—”
“No arguments.” With a sigh, he said firmly, “Honey, I’m an architect. I make a lot more money than you. I can afford to take care of you.” He turned her around to face the door. “Now, I want no more arguments about who’s going to pay. Let’s go get breakfast.”
By the time they’d had breakfast, packed up and got on the plane, Joe had a lot better picture of what he faced when he got his bride back to Mission Creek.
Heaven help him.

Three
Joe called his mother when they changed planes in San Antonio. They were only a short flight from Mission Creek.
“Mom, it’s Joe. Are you and Dad going to be home this evening?”
“Why, yes, dear. Where are you?”
“I’m in the San Antonio airport. I have someone I want you to meet. May we drop by in about an hour?”
“Of course. Will you have eaten?”
“No.”
“I’ll have some food ready. Is this a friend from Chicago?”
“No, it’s better than that, Mom. I’ll see you in an hour.”
He hung up the phone and found Ginger staring at him. “What is it? Why are you upset?”
“Why did you tell your mother?”
“Well, actually, I didn’t. We’re going to surprise her,” he said with a big grin. His family would definitely be surprised. And he would be relieved. He’d told his family he’d never met a woman he wanted to marry. The truth of the matter was, he didn’t think he’d ever want to risk his heart again. He’d been betrayed when he first fell in love, and it had become a habit to avoid commitment. But marrying Ginger wasn’t real. And she truly needed him.
“But I don’t think we should tell your mother,” Ginger said.
Joe sighed. “Remember we agreed to talk and act like we’re really married. We wouldn’t keep it secret. It’ll make my mother very happy, I assure you.”
“But she will be upset when we don’t stay married.”
Joe looked around to be sure no one important had overheard Ginger’s words. “Look, Ginger, you mustn’t say things like that.”
She covered her lips and looked around, too. “Joe, I don’t think we should’ve done this. I’m afraid you will get in trouble.”
Joe shook his head. “Too late. Come on, our plane is leaving.”
“But I’m very hungry,” she complained. “I can pay for—”
He swooped down and kissed her. Then, pretending touching her lips had been normal, he said, “No need. Mom is fixing a meal for us.”
Ginger wore a shocked expression on her face. He didn’t think the kiss would elicit that much of a surprise. But in the future he was going to have to be careful, because kissing her, he’d discovered, was a real pleasure. He leaned closer, drawing in her scent. “Remember, we’re married.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond. He took her hand and led her to the gate where the small plane awaited.
Ginger sat quietly for the next forty-five minutes, greatly relieving Joe’s mind. Once they settled into a routine, things would be easier. But they weren’t there yet.
He’d left his car at the small airport. It took only a few minutes to reach it since their luggage was carry-on. Right on time, he pulled up to his parents’ house. All the cars parked in front told him his brothers and their families were there, too.
He had to warn Ginger, though he knew she wouldn’t like it. “Uh, Ginger, I think my entire family is here tonight. Remember we have to act like we’re married.”
“You have a big family?”
“I have four brothers. I told you they’re all married. Only one doesn’t have any children yet, but his wife is expecting in two months. Just be careful what you say.”
She nodded, though she tightened her lips and set her shoulders, as if she were about to face a hostile crowd.
“And try to look happy,” he added, thinking she might burst into tears at any moment.
They got out of the car and he came to her side. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course.”
When they reached the front door, he hugged her close. “Everything’s going to be great, honey.” He aimed a kiss for her cheek, but she turned to look at him and his lips landed on hers. The contact surprised both of them. On impulse he pressed his mouth against hers, encouraging her to open to him, as if they were lovers. Even more surprising, Ginger didn’t pull away. He pulled her closer, wanting more, and her arms wound around his neck.
He heard the front door open and his mother gasped several times. But he didn’t care. He was kissing his wife.
“Joe! Who is this?” his mother asked.
He released Ginger, his gaze still on her face. “This is my wife.”

Ginger found herself the center of attention, as questions flew fast and furious around her. Joe’s mother seemed happy, his father stared at her and the rest of the people, his brothers and their wives, wanted details.
“Where did you two meet?” one Turner wife asked.
Ginger replied, “At the country club.”
“Oh, are you a member, too? I haven’t seen you.”
“No, I’m not a member. I work there as a waitress.” Though she figured that would upset everyone, she couldn’t lie.
Another woman, who looked vaguely familiar, stepped forward. “Oh, you’re the waitress who’s so patient with the children.”
“You’re right,” another woman said, then turned to Ginger. “I remember you now. I’m Amy, Bill’s wife,” the woman said, holding out her hand.
As Ginger shook her hand, a man stepped up alongside Amy. “Hi, I’m Bill. I’m Joe’s oldest brother.”
Ginger nodded. She stared as the other brothers sorted themselves out and introduced themselves and their wives.
“What’s your last name?” someone asked.
She opened her mouth to say Walton when Joe intervened. “Turner, of course.”
Joe’s father, who introduced himself as Ed, stepped forward. “Welcome to the family, Ginger. You’re mighty pretty.”
“Th-thank you.”
His mother, Vivian, herded everyone to the dining room. “Come along now. I fixed a late dinner for these two and snacks for everyone.”
“Good. Ginger was starving in San Antonio. I know she’ll be glad to eat,” Joe said, beaming.
Actually, Ginger’s hunger had disappeared once she became the center of attention. But to be polite, she nodded and took Joe’s hand and followed everyone else. As she looked at Joe, she wondered why he’d kissed her on the front porch. Had it been for show, or did it mean something to him? And would he repeat it?
Once all the adults were seated around the table, with the children playing in the living room within sight, the questions began again.
“See any good shows in Vegas?” one of the brothers asked.
Ginger looked at Joe, hoping he’d field the questions. She was getting so nervous, she didn’t think she could eat and talk at the same time.
“Nope. We were only there one night.”
“Too much to do, huh?” his brother responded, using his elbow to share the joke with his brother beside him.
Ginger didn’t exactly understand what was so funny. Except that she was starving and too afraid to eat.
“Did you gamble?” one of the other brothers asked. Ginger looked at Joe, hoping he’d provide the answer again.
“Nope. Ginger was too concerned about losing her husband’s money,” Joe told them with a grin. Then he added, “Hey, guys, give Ginger a chance to eat. She can’t talk and eat at the same time.”
“Joe’s right,” Vivian said. Then she turned to Ginger. “And I think you did the right thing, not gambling away Joe’s savings.”
The other men roared with laughter. “Yeah, poor Joe, he’s always broke,” one of them added.
Ginger was horrified. She stared at Joe. Why had he insisted on paying for everything?
“Let’s change the subject,” Joe suggested. “What happened while we were gone? Any word on that stolen baby?”
Joe was sitting next to Ginger and he felt the tension rise in her even more. He hadn’t thought anything would be more terrifying than his family. He looked at Ginger sharply as his father answered his question.
“No, no word on the baby. I’m beginning to think the mother stole her. Maybe changed her mind about giving her up.”
“No!” Ginger exclaimed. “No, she wouldn’t do that!”
Everyone stared at her. Joe tried to think of something to say, but fortunately his sister-in-law Amy came to the rescue.
“I think Ginger’s right. That’s not something a mother would do. I agree, Ginger.”
“Me, too,” his mother agreed. “But I’m sure someone will find the baby soon, unless…”
Joe was afraid Ginger was going to cry, though he didn’t know why. “Uh, did I tell you they’re scheduling the reopening of the Men’s Grill at the club for next Saturday? I’m proud of the work I did, along with Jenny. I hope you’re all going to be there.”
Ginger looked at him. “Who is Jenny?”
Joe’s eyebrows shot up. Ginger almost sounded like she was jealous. Maybe she had more acting ability than he’d thought. “Jenny Taylor. She’s the interior designer who’s been working on the Men’s Grill with me.”
“Oh.”
Bill, Joe’s longest-married brother, said, “Don’t worry, Ginger. She’s nice, but you’re prettier. Besides, Joe chose you.”
Ginger tried to smile, but she wasn’t very successful.
Joe slid his arm around her. “You bet I did. I’ve had my eye on Ginger ever since I got back.”
“You sure didn’t let any of us in on it,” his father pointed out.
“I wasn’t going to introduce her to my brothers until after I had a ring on her finger.”
“Oh, I forgot to look at your ring,” Kitty, his youngest sister-in-law, exclaimed.
Suddenly all the gazes in the room were fixed on Ginger’s left hand. Ginger proudly wore the plain gold band Joe had bought her in Vegas, but Joe knew what to expect.
“What happened, Joe?” Bill exclaimed. “Did all your investments crash?”
Ed coughed, and Bill turned to look at him. “You’re embarrassing the newest Mrs. Turner, son.”
Ginger looked at his mother, and Joe leaned over to whisper, “They’re talking about you, sweetheart.” Then he couldn’t help himself. He kissed her again, lightly this time, since everyone was looking.
“I’m planning on buying her some diamonds, but we did this so suddenly, I didn’t want to buy diamonds in Vegas. I’ll go to the jewelry store here in Mission Creek tomorrow.”
“You need any help, ask me, son,” Ed offered.
When his brothers all protested, Joe grinned and held up one hand to quiet them. Then he turned to his father. “No, Dad, I’ve got it taken care of.” Joe looked at Ginger, who sat silently.
As his brothers continued to tease him, Ginger said softly, “I don’t need diamonds. Joe is—”
Afraid she was going to say the wrong thing, he kissed her again. “Thanks, sweetheart. See, guys, I didn’t marry a greedy woman.”
His mother congratulated him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night here?” Vivian Turner asked one more time.
Joe had already refused her offer once, which was a great relief to Ginger. She wanted to go home and get ready for work tomorrow. She was exhausted.
“Thanks, Mom, but I think we’ll get settled in. And thanks for dinner,” Joe said.
Ginger hurriedly thanked her also. Not that she’d eaten much. Her nerves were strung so tight, she couldn’t. But she had peanut butter and crackers at home, which would hold her over until tomorrow.
Once inside the car, she lay her head back on the headrest, trying to calm down. All in all, she thought, the day hadn’t gone too bad. Joe’s parents and his brothers were nice people, good people, who had tried hard to make her comfortable. And she had been—until Ed mentioned the kidnapped baby.
Ginger hoped her reaction didn’t red-flag anyone’s attention. But she knew the baby’s mother hadn’t stolen her back. She knew because the baby’s mother was her best friend and fellow waitress at the Lone Star Country Club, Daisy Parker.
She stole a glance at Joe, checking his facial expression, as if he could read her mind. His eyes were steadfastly on the road ahead.
Ginger recalled the day Daisy had confided in her that she was baby Lena’s mother and had had no choice but to leave the child on the golf course where she knew she’d be found, and then taken care of. Ginger hadn’t judged her friend, only offered comfort to the obviously distraught woman.
She told no one about Daisy—with one exception—and she silently admonished herself for revealing the truth to a man who’d held her at knife-point in the lot of the country club a couple of months ago. But she’d been terrified and afraid for her life. Now, again, Daisy’s secret was safe with her, she’d tell no one, not even Joe.
As if to steel herself in her vow, she took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.
“You okay?” Joe asked. “It’s been a long day. I bet you’re exhausted. I’m sorry about all the commotion tonight. I’d thought it would just be Mom and Dad.”
“It was very nice,” she said, staring through the windshield.
“How about we go straight home tonight? Tomorrow we’ll take care of things.”
“Yes, thank you.”
She wasn’t sure what those things were, but she was ready to call it a night—until she realized Joe had missed the turn to her apartment.
“Where are we going? You needed to turn back there.”
“No, sweetheart. My condo is two more blocks ahead. I live in the Blue Shades complex.”
“But I do not!”
Joe sighed. “We’re married. That means we live together.”
“But I don’t have clean clothes. And I need my uniform for the morning,” she said firmly, feeling like an idiot for not realizing what was going to happen.
Joe turned at the next street corner and headed back the other way. “Okay, we’ll go to your place and you can pack what you need for tomorrow. We’ll get the rest of your stuff later.”
“Do you have enough room for me?”
He grinned at her. “I have a lot more room than you do. By the way, where do you sleep? I never saw a bed.”
“On the sofa. It’s called a futon.”
He shook his head.
“What?”
“You’ll have your own bedroom at my condo. I have three bedrooms, so it will be just fine. I promise.”
When they finally arrived at Joe’s condo, he unlocked the door and swung her up into his arms. She clutched him around the neck. “What are you doing?”
“It’s a tradition in America. The groom carries the bride over the threshold of their first house.” He carried her into the place and set her down, giving her a kiss that wouldn’t be easily forgotten. He was breathing a little heavily when he stepped back.
“But we’re aren’t—”
“Shh. I don’t need to kiss you again this soon. But I’ll have to if you’re going to say anything inappropriate.” He grinned, trying to convince her he was kidding. But she took a couple of steps back.
“So what do you think?” he asked, waving his arm to indicate he was asking about his condo. It was well designed, with blue-and-cream-colored decor. Ginger began to prowl around. When she came to a door, she would ask permission to open it. His bedroom didn’t receive much inspection, but the other two bedrooms, with a bathroom between, were closely examined. The kitchen, however, received the most attention. It was large, with modern appliances, all sparkling clean.
“This is beautiful!” Ginger exclaimed.
“I’m glad you like it. I’ve designed my dream home, but since my move to Mission Creek was temporary, I didn’t see any point in building it yet. This condo has been fine for me.”
She gave him a strange look. Then she asked, “Which room shall I use?”
“Either one. But I think the second one is larger. Tomorrow we’ll pack up your apartment and see if we can get your deposit back. Did you pay first and last month?”
She nodded.
“Okay, I’ll talk to the manager. I’m going out to get your bags,” he said, and turned toward the door.
“I can go get them.”
“No, honey, that’s another thing husbands do.” And he disappeared.
She sat down in the living room, unable to believe she would be living in such a beautiful home. The slate-blue carpet was thick, two couches faced each other with a large square coffee table in between. Lamps and decorative items filled the room. Her mother’s apartment in New York City was dingy and small, nothing like this.
“Did you decide which room you want?” Joe asked as he came in with her bags.
“The second room is fine.” She hurried over to open the door. “The bed in here is so pretty.” It was queen-size, with a beautiful comforter and pillows on it. She couldn’t wait to get in it.
“Thanks. Jenny picked out the coverlet. She said it reminded her of a flower garden.”
“Yes, it does,” she said a little stiffly. “Joe, will she understand about me? I do not want to cause you trouble.”
He turned around to stare at her. “Jenny? Why wouldn’t she?”
She shrugged her shoulders and sighed.
“I should’ve taken the leftovers Mom offered. You’re exhausted and you ate hardly anything.” He turned and left her in the room by herself.
She started to follow him, but she decided she’d apologized enough. Instead she decided to unpack. Her clothes barely made a dent in the deep bureau and roomy closet. She gathered clean underwear and her nightgown and deposited them in the connecting bath.
She came back out and went into the living room again. “Is it okay if I take a bath?” She was so looking forward to it. Because the tub in her apartment was narrow and rusty, she had only taken showers since she’d come to Texas.
“Sure. I ordered pizza, by the way. It’ll fill you up so you can get a good night’s sleep. For breakfast tomorrow, I have cereal. But afterward we’ll go grocery shopping and get what you like.”
“I can eat cereal.”
Joe eyed her speculatively. “Ginger, earlier tonight did you think my brothers were teasing me because I didn’t have money?”
She hesitated. “Maybe.”
“Honey, they were teasing me because I don’t usually spend a lot of money. I have that reputation, but it’s only because there’s just me. I have money, I promise. Certainly enough to buy groceries.”
“I can give you my rent money.”
“Now, don’t start that again. I told you how marriages work. I pay the bills, okay?”
She nodded, remembering the wifely duties he’d pointed out. She’d have to be sure she did everything as he wanted. To be able to live in such luxury for even a few months would be worth hard work.
“Go get your bath and then come out. The pizza will be here by then.”
He’d ordered pizza because he thought she might be hungry? That seemed the height of decadence. She loved pizza, but she only allowed herself to order it once a month, on her day off. Usually, she worked seven days a week. Harvey didn’t mind, and she’d been saving her money. When she worked, she got two meals at the club, and she usually skipped the other one.
She went into the bathroom and began running the water, delighted when no rust came out as it did in her apartment. Then she heard Joe’s voice. She hurriedly turned off the taps, afraid she was using too much water.
“I only used a little. I’m sorry,” she said as she opened the door.
“What? Use as much as you want, honey. It’s okay. I wanted to tell you there’s a bottle of bath oil or something in there that you might like.”
“But it’s not mine.”
“I know. Jenny said she got it for overnight guests. You pour it into the water and it makes your skin softer.”
She thanked him and closed the door, turning on the water again. Just this once, she would fill the tub. While the water rose, she found the bottle of oil. After reading the directions, she poured in the right amount.
To her surprise, bubbles began forming. She stood there watching them, fascinated. She almost forgot to turn off the water before it came over the side of the tub. She removed her clothes and slid into the deliciously warm water.
Heaven! She didn’t think she would ever get out.

When the pizza came, Joe realized he hadn’t heard Ginger moving around. He knocked on the bedroom door to let her know their late dinner had arrived. No answer.
Slowly he opened the bedroom door, expecting to see her sound asleep on the bed. But the room was empty. He moved to the bathroom and listened at the door. Complete silence. “Ginger?” he called softly.
There was no response.
He was afraid he’d scare her if he opened the door. After all, he’d told her she’d have her privacy. But worry gripped him. Slowly he turned the knob and pushed back the door.
His princess was asleep in the bath, her auburn hair resting on the back of the tub, bubbles covering everything but her face. Despite how beautiful she looked, he realized the danger in the situation. She might have drowned.
He started to wake her up, but he realized she’d be embarrassed. Instead, he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. Then he banged on the door from the bedroom and shouted her name.
There was a large splash. “W-what? What is it?”
“I just wanted to let you know the pizza’s here. I don’t want it to get cold.”
“I’ll be right—I don’t have a robe.”
“I’ll put one on your bed. Just give me a minute.”
He had a terry-cloth robe his mother had given him for Christmas that he hadn’t used. He put it on the bed, lingering a minute to imagine his robe sliding over Ginger’s skin.
The bathroom door opened slightly, and he said, “It’s here. I’ll go back to the kitchen. You want something to drink? I have some caffeine-free cola so you can get to sleep tonight. Is that okay?”
“Yes, please.”
Reluctantly he left the bedroom and waited for his wife to join him in the kitchen. It would be their first meal at home together.

Four
Joe rolled over in his big bed and slowly opened his eyes. He normally rose early each morning, but he’d stayed up last night, lingering over the pizza with Ginger. Too late, actually. Ginger should have been in bed several hours earlier. But she’d seemed to enjoy the late-night snack and his company.
They’d compared childhoods, hers in difficult circumstances in Estonia, with little to eat and almost no money. She was an only child of a single woman, shunned by many of the people in their town. Her mother had decided to marry an American. She was only thirty-four now, having had Ginger at fifteen.
Joe hadn’t really thought about his family and his younger days when he and his brothers had played and laughed together. His heart-breaking romance with his fiancée seemed silly now. He had a loving, supportive family, a good education, a profession he enjoyed. He had nothing to complain about. He was glad he’d decided to help Ginger. She deserved to stay in America.
He grinned and swung back the cover. They had a lot to do today. He wanted to get her things out of that one-room apartment she had called home. They had to go to the jewelry store to pick out some diamonds to go with her wedding band. He wanted to introduce Ginger to his friends. He needed to go to the closest INS office and give them a copy of their marriage certificate.
He also wanted to buy Ginger a dress for the opening of the Men’s Grill. As the architect’s wife, she’d be in the spotlight.
His life was suddenly much more exciting than it had been on Friday.
Fifteen minutes later, he came out of his room, following the scent of bacon and coffee. He expected to see Ginger, of course, but he was hungry, too. He was glad she felt at home enough to cook this morning. Not that he expected her to cook every meal, but it was a good way to start.
Ginger wasn’t in the kitchen. There was a note on the counter that made him frown.
Joe,
I have to be at work and it takes me a while to walk from here. Your breakfast is keeping warm in the oven. I made you a sandwich for lunch. It’s in the refrigerator. There’s also a casserole in the refrigerator for your dinner. I work until six-thirty and my class starts at seven. I will be home by ten-thirty. Leave the dishes for me. I’ll finish the laundry tonight. I dusted the furniture but did not vacuum because I didn’t want to wake you.
Thank you.
Ginger
He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was only nine-fifteen and she’d already done all that work? That was more than most people did in a full day. Not to mention she intended to be on her feet until six-thirty and go to school after that.
He grabbed his car keys. Then he went back and opened the oven to find a plate of scrambled eyes, bacon and toast there. He made a quick sandwich with it and hurried out to his car.
He’d hoped he’d find Ginger on the street and could pick her up, but he didn’t see her anywhere. He parked in the lot of the Lone Star Country Club and hurried into the building.
Harvey Small was entering his office when he caught sight of Joe.
“Joe, I was going to call you. I have some questions about the opening. Come right in.”
“No. I need to find Ginger.”
“She’s working. Now, about the flowers we’re—”
“Where is she?”
“She’s in the Yellow Rose Café, setting up for lunch. Now, about the—”
Joe ignored the man and hurried to the café. There were several waitresses setting the tables, but he didn’t see Ginger. Then she came from the kitchen, carrying a tray of salt, pepper and ketchup for the tables.
“Ginger!” he exclaimed.
She stopped and carefully set the tray on the nearest table. “Yes, Mr. Turner?”
He couldn’t believe she was calling him Mr. Turner. “What did you say?”
“I asked what you wanted.”
“It was the ‘Mr. Turner’ bit that bothered me,” he growled.
“Joe, I was talking to you,” Harvey called from the door, moving toward them.
“I know, but I need to talk to my wife.” It was Ginger’s reaction that had him turning to stare at Harvey, who appeared stunned.
Then he managed a small laugh. “Come on, Joe, if you want a cup of coffee before we talk, just say so.” He turned to Ginger. “Get Mr. Turner some coffee and bring it to my office. And maybe a Danish, Joe?”
“No. I’ve had breakfast. My wife fixed it for me.”
“What are you talking about? I know you’re not married, Joe. Your mother complains about it all the time. Now, what I needed—”
“Meet Ginger Turner, my wife.” While Joe said those magical words, he slid his arm around Ginger’s waist.
Harvey stared at them as if he’d seen a ghost. “Ginger…Ginger is your wife?”
“Yes, we got married on Saturday. I’ll need to talk to you about her hours.”
“No, Joe, you mustn’t!” Ginger protested.
“Yes, sweetheart, I must. You can’t keep the schedule you proposed for today. It’s too much.”
“But I fixed all your food. I’m sorry the casserole is not very good, but you didn’t have much food in your refrigerator.”
“Ginger, I’m not complaining about the food. I’m complaining about how much you’re trying to do.”
It frustrated Joe that she didn’t seem to comprehend his concern.
It was Ginger who spoke next. “Mr. Small, if you will excuse me for five minutes, I need to talk to Joe, er, Mr. Turner, and then I will return to work.”
Joe hated her kowtowing to Harvey. “We’ll take as long as we need, Ginger. Harvey doesn’t mind, do you, Harvey?” He shot the club manager a determined look as he took Ginger’s arm and led her through the doors into the Men’s Grill.
“Joe, Mr. Small will be mad at me. He may dock my wages,” Ginger said with fear.
“I’ll bet he doesn’t,” Joe said grimly.
“But what’s wrong? I’m only doing what you said,” Ginger said, a plea in her voice.
“What are you talking about? I never said for you to work yourself into the ground. And walking to work from the condo? That’s ridiculous.”
“But I had to get to work.”
“That’s just it. You don’t have to come to work.”
She stared at him, panic in her eyes. “You said I could continue to work, to save my money if they send me back.”
“Honey, I said you could work, but not all the time. You’re taking nine hours a week at the community college and working every other minute here. You need more time to relax. I’m going to tell Harvey to cut you back to…to twenty hours a week. Okay?”
“No!” Ginger cried, tears in her eyes. “You promised.”
She had him there. He had promised, but he’d had no idea how many hours she put in. “How many do you usually work?”

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