She sniffled softly, trying to recontextualize ten years of memories with this new information. But sifting through her memories, she couldn’t remember many times that Woodman had spoken against Cain or warned her away from him. He’d been mostly loyal to his cousin, defending and protecting Cain, even while defending and protecting her. What a fine line he’d had to walk. And maybe Cain was right—if Woodman hadn’t stood between them, laying an early claim to Ginger, they wouldn’t be wrapped in each other’s arms now. Maybe it had, in fact, all worked out the way it was supposed to.
But still, flaunting her newfound happiness with Cain? She couldn’t deny that it felt wrong somehow. Woodman had loved her, and she had made promises to him. She didn’t care so much what other people thought, but Woodman had worked so hard to keep her and Cain apart, it felt like dishonoring his memory for them to be together. It made her feel guilty.
“What were you goin’ to say before?” she asked. “What did Woodman want?”
Cain took a deep breath and released it slowly.
“He died in my arms, Gin.”
“Woodman? But I thought he died in that barn where the fir—”
“No,” said Cain, his voice low and strained. “When I pulled him out, he was still alive. He died in my arms.”
“No.” She leaned up on his chest, looking into his eyes. “Oh God, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
One of Cain’s hands left her back, and he braced it on his forehead, over his eyes, staring up at her, pain coming off him in waves.
“He didn’t die right away,” said Cain, still watching her.
Her stomach fisted and she whimpered.
“No, darlin’. He wasn’t in any pain. I don’t think he felt much of anythin’, but . . .” Cain’s face was shuttered in sorrow. “He said a few words.”
“He did? What did . . . Why didn’t you tell me? What did he say?” she asked, ignoring the tear that rolled down her cheek.
Cain reached up and caught it with his thumb, pushing it away, into her hair. He searched her eyes gravely. “You know I love you?”
She nodded, but her insides were in knots.
“I need to hear you say it.”
“You love me,” she said softly. “I know you do. And I love you.”
Cain nodded. “You know that I’ve always loved you? Even when I was pushin’ you away? Even when it seemed like I hated you? You believe that?”
She nodded again, blinking as more tears joined the first. “I don’t doubt your love for me, Cain.”
“That’s good, baby, because what I’m goin’ to tell you might be hard to hear.”
“Please just say it,” she whispered.
Cain nodded. “Before Josiah died, he told me you loved me.”
She gasped, holding her breath as she stared at Cain.
“There’s more. He . . . he asked me to be good to you, and care for you, and . . .” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat before speaking again. “To love you.”
“Caaaain,” she sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand as the terrible tragedy of Woodman’s love for her came full circle.
“He made me promise,” said Cain.
She shook her head, trying to hold back the sobs but losing the battle.
“That’s why you started comin’ around,” she said.
He tensed, his whole body clenching. “You know I love you. Don’t let Josiah’s final wishes make you doubt that, baby.”
“But you were so angry with me the night of the BBQ,” she said, taking a gasping, sobbing breath. “You started comin’ around because of your promise to Woodman. Admit that’s true.”
“Only partly,” he said, furrowing his brows, his eyes searching hers desperately, willing her to know the truth of his words. “My promise to him forced me to forgive you for sleepin’ with him after you told me you loved me. So yes, I started comin’ around for him at first . . . but I kept comin’ for you. It was so easy to fall in love with you all over again. Don’t you see, Gin? The one thing that had always kept me from you was Woodman. His dyin’ gift to me . . . was his blessing.”
Her head fell forward with the power of her sadness, with the sheer magnitude of the devotion of Cain Wolfram to someone he loved, with the poignancy of Josiah Woodman’s last request. Cain had stayed away from her out of love for Woodman, and Woodman had given his permission to love her out of love for her and Cain, and it just about broke her to know it. They’d always referred to each other as brothers, but never had Ginger seen it more clearly than now, and it filled her with joy and sorrow, comfort and gratitude, to know that Woodman had stayed alive long enough to say the words that would ensure her happiness.
“We were two cousins in love with the same girl,” said Cain, lifting her chin and searching her face. “It doesn’t make one of us a villain and one of us a hero. You can’t help who you love. But someone’s heart was goin’ to break. In the end, he made sure it wasn’t one of ours.”
“He died talkin’ about us,” said Ginger, swiping at her tears.
Cain nodded. “He always wanted you to be happy, Gin.”
Why’s the sky blue, Ginger? Because it don’t know no other way to be.
“Is it wrong for us to be happy? Is it bad that we’re together, partly because he’s gone?”