Ginger's Heart (A Modern Fairytale, #3)(54)

“But I cared,” she said softly. “Which is why you saved it.”

“Fine. Have it your way,” he said, sitting down on a large rock near the water’s edge.

She sighed, squatting down to wash her hands in the clear water before looking back at him. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Let Woodman take credit for all the good things?”

He shrugged, looking away from her, out at the water. “I don’t.”

“You just did. Twice.”

He sighed, giving her a long-suffering look. “If somethin’ good happened, chances are it was Woodman’s doin’.”

“How do you figure?”

“He’s the better man, Gin,” said Cain, his eyes severe, his words deliberate.

She stood up slowly, turning her body completely to face him. “Do you really believe that?”

He looked away. “It’s the truth.”

“Cain. Cain, look at me.” Her words didn’t feel like enough so she beseeched him with her eyes too. “You’re just as good a man as he is.”

“Ha!” scoffed Cain, standing up. “Not in this life, princess.”

Ginger had been witness to the differences between the cousins her whole life. Woodman came from happy parents and wealth, and his life had followed a natural course toward popularity and success, while Cain had come from unhappy parents and just-enough, and his life had followed a natural course toward rebellion and apathy. Except that Cain had somehow figured out a life for himself and pursued it, and from all outward appearances, his time in the military was a good and solid choice that was making him a better man. She couldn’t bear it that he should be so hard on himself.

“You’re wrong,” she said. “Y’all are very different, you and Woodman, but I . . . I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

He looked up at her then, and the tenderness, the gratitude, in his eyes made a lump rise in her throat, and it occurred to her, for the first time, that while her parents were telling her how much they loved her and Woodman’s parents were telling him how much they loved him, no one was telling Cain he was loved. Klaus was too busy at McHuid’s to be bothered with his small son, and Sarah had been a deeply unhappy, distracted mother. She thought back to nine-year-old Cain, hanging out by the barn during parties he wasn’t invited to, hoping his friends might slip away with a piece of cake. Just an unwanted little boy looking in, finding his worth in everything left unsaid.

“Lionhearted l’il gal,” he said softly.

Tears filled her eyes, but she smiled tenderly at him. “You skipped the most stones. You saved my doll. You are good, Cain.”

“Princess,” he said, his voice reverent and low, but softly pleading. “You’re goin’ to break me if you don’t stop.”

Then he stood up and crossed to the horses. He grabbed the reins and held out Heath’s lead to her without meeting her eyes. Before she could mount up and turn Heath away from the stream, Cain and Thunder were already gone.

***

Ginger was afraid that their heart-to-heart by the river would create another awkward fallout with Cain and he would start avoiding her again, but the next morning she awoke to the sounds of whistling and water outside her upstairs window. When she slipped out of bed and looked down, she found Cain below in the driveway washing Gran’s old Ford pickup.

“Hey!” she called.

He looked up at her from under the brim of his black cowboy hat, his lips widening into a breathtaking smile as he switched the water off. “Hey, yourself, sleepyhead!”

She grinned down at him, resting her elbow on the sill and her cheek on her palm. “What’re you doin’?”

“Washin’ your gran’s truck. If you’re goin’ to use this old lady as a lawn ornament, it should always be shiny.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right, princess,” he said, putting his hands on his hips and taking a deep breath, which swelled his chest under his damp white T-shirt.

“You hungry after all that hard work?” she asked.

“What’cha offerin’? I already seen your freezer full of frozen pizzas.”

“I’ll have you know that I make a very decent sunny-side-up egg.”

He chuckled, flashing a grin to the high autumn sun and adjusting the brim of his hat. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Then finish up and come on in.”

Before he could answer, she lowered the window and stepped back into her bedroom, clasping her hands and giggling softly at this new wonder of wonders. They’d actually managed to have a deep conversation yesterday and he hadn’t run away today.

“Cain,” she whispered, her breath hitching as her heart swelled with an old love that suddenly felt new, that felt exciting—and finally finally finally—possible.

She pulled her nightgown over her head and tossed it onto the hardwood floor, pulling open her bureau drawer and selecting a white lacy bra and matching panties. She’d bought them on a whim before her senior prom, but hadn’t ended up wearing them because her date—Silas Varner—had arrived drunk as a skunk to pick her up two hours early. Daddy had escorted him off the grounds of McHuid’s holding a shotgun, and that had been the unceremonious end of Ginger’s prom. Not that she’d really minded, she thought, pulling on her skinny jeans and rummaging through her closet for a soft pink V-neck T-shirt. Silas was nobody special to her.