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

His face flushed with heat as he looked at the last charm.

He’d chosen the other four quickly—a barn, an apple, a banjo, and a horse—all important parts of Ginger’s life. But was he? He knew he was a friend to her—a brother figure, too. But could he be important in her life in a different way than he’d always been before?

“A heart,” she said, looking up at him, her brown eyes deep and searching. “Yours or mine?”

He stared at her, trying to decide what to say. He didn’t sense that she was ready for a declaration of his eternal love, but Woodman wasn’t ashamed of the feelings in his heart, so he kept his answer simple.

“Mine,” he whispered, taking the bracelet from her palm and hooking it carefully around her wrist.

She showed no reaction to his simple admission, so he wasn’t sure if she’d actually heard him or if he’d whispered too lightly. At any rate, it wouldn’t make sense to repeat himself. As the bracelet latch clicked shut, he looked up at her, and she offered him a wobbly grin.

“Race you to the top?” she asked, then set off at a clip, running up the gravel hill in riding boots and a yellow sundress, heading back up to her birthday party.

Woodman didn’t rush after her. He watched her go, shaking his head as he chuckled softly to himself, now certain in the knowledge that she’d heard him and just didn’t know how to respond. That was his Ginger—marching headlong into a fight when she was angry or indignant, but running away when she felt bruised or uncertain. He didn’t mind. Maybe she just needed a little time for the idea of owning his heart to settle and find purchase in her mind. That was just fine. If she needed time, she could have it. He wasn’t going anywhere. That was for sure.

After all, the notion of Woodman and Ginger ending up together wasn’t exactly a brand-new idea. For as long as Woodman could remember, he had taken for granted the knowledge that someday Ginger, and her family’s farm, would belong to him.

A union between the Woodmans and McHuids was a favorite wish of both of their mothers, who spoke about a someday marriage in not-so-hushed tones (“Won’t your Ginger make Woodman a beautiful bride someday?” “Yes, and Woodman is just the sort of good boy Ranger and I would want by her side.”) and their fathers, who joked that their grandsons would be the best horsemen in Glenndale County one day. His feelings for Ginger, always strong, grew and deepened into something that felt more lasting and serious with every passing day. And Woodman loved McHuid Farm as much as Ranger McHuid or his Uncle Klaus, to whom Woodman had been apprenticed since he was a preteen able to properly muck out a stable.

Woodman had given Ginger his heart ages ago. The bracelet he’d given her today was just the first step toward securing hers, even though they had years ahead of them before they could finally be together.

As he continued his leisurely stroll up the gravel driveway, he thought about those years to come—about the carefully chosen plan for his life: currently a sophomore at Apple Valley High, he was in the top five percent of his class, but his goal was to be valedictorian by senior year. He also punted for the Apple Valley Appaloosas and had recently been elected treasurer of the student government. And he knew he’d need all these credentials lined up to be accepted at the Naval Academy like his father and grandfather.

After being accepted at Annapolis and successfully completing four years of undergraduate work as a cadet, he would graduate as a second lieutenant and request to be stationed at Naval Support Activity Mid-South in Tennessee, where he could work with the Navy Recruiting Command. That way, he’d be closer to home and in a better geographical position to court Ginger. After five years of active service, he planned to enter the Reserves for three years, during which he’d return to Apple Valley, propose to Ginger, and take over a portion of the operations at McHuid’s in conjunction with her father and Uncle Klaus.

And then? Woodman grinned. A gorgeous young wife in his bed whom he’d always loved. And someday? A little boy with her brown eyes and a little girl who shared her smile. He chuckled softly at the thought, holding it close to his heart.

“Basically, your average happily-ever-after,” he said aloud, waving at his parents as they came into view and feeling like the path he was on was the perfect route to a sweet life.





PART TWO




Three years later





Chapter 4


Cain



“Ahh, baby,” he groaned, grinding his head back into the pillow, “you’re hotter’n a tin can in August.”