Woodman highly doubted it.
Without actually admitting it aloud, Cain had made it as clear as possible how much he hated working at McHuid’s, his moods increasingly sour as the years went by, his attitude jockeying between gruff and sullen whenever he was at work. Woodman, who loved just about everything about McHuid’s, wondered, from time to time, if it had anything to do with the way his Uncle Klaus sometimes seemed to favor him over Cain. But that wasn’t likely, was it? Cain had to know that all Uncle Klaus ever talked about was horses, a topic that made Cain’s eyes roll before glazing over. Woodman and Uncle Klaus had an interest in common, and that was it. It wasn’t like they had deep discussions about the meaning of life that Cain was missing out on.
Woodman adjusted the blanket in his arms and stuck out his hand. “I’ll be sure to write, sir.”
“To Ginger, you mean,” said Ranger, standing up and taking the younger man’s hand.
“With your permission.”
“Hell, Woodman, you’re practically family. You don’t need my damn permission.”
Woodman grinned. “Just want to do everythin’ right.”
“Which is why Magnolia and I have such high hopes for you and our little gal.”
Woodman squeezed his hand before dropping it, then turned to his uncle. “Think you can keep this place runnin’ without me?”
“Oh, ja,” said Uncle Klaus, looking up at Woodman and nodding with hooded eyes. “But I be waitin’ for you boys t’get home.”
Pulling his uncle into an awkward embrace, Woodman whispered by his ear, “I’ll keep an eye on Cain, Uncle Klaus.”
“Ja. He need watchin’.”
“He’ll be okay. I promise.”
His uncle cleared his throat and drew away, swiping at his eyes as he knelt down and started checking the filly’s hooves without another word.
“Guess that’s it, then,” said Woodman, and Ranger clapped him on the back one more time.
Leaning closer to Woodman, Ranger said softly, “I ’spect ole Cain can watch out for himself well ’nough. Don’t get pulled into any of that hellion’s shenanigans. Just bring your bones home safe, Josiah Woodman.”
“Yes, sir. Good-bye, now,” he responded, nodding at Ginger’s father before turning away and heading back down the hill toward the barn. He’d clean up in Klaus’s tack room bathroom before heading up to the main house to say good-bye to Ginger, then home for dinner with his parents and a good night’s sleep before the 5 a.m. bus tomorrow.
Even though Annapolis had been Woodman’s plan, a slick late-summer football field last August had resulted in a torn ACL, arthroscopic surgery, and several missed weeks of school. Losing football as an extracurricular activity had been the first blow, but the second was the drastic dip in his first-semester senior-year grades because he was out of school for surgery and rehab for so many weeks. He still applied to Annapolis in December, but received a rejection letter in April—his grades simply weren’t competitive enough. To be accepted, he’d have to redo his senior year and reapply next December.
Because his father and grandfather had served directly out of high school, and Woodman felt strongly about honoring the family tradition, he had decided to enlist in the Navy instead. At first, he was concerned that the September surgery would sideline him from enlisting, but after requesting his x-rays and full medical history right after graduation, MEPS had determined that Josiah’s recovery was complete and ruled to allow his enlistment.
When Woodman had announced, at dinner with his parents, aunt, and cousin, that he had decided to join the Navy, Cain grinned at him and then promptly announced that he’d decided to do the same. Woodman wasn’t sure when Cain had decided to enlist, though he strongly suspected it was at that same dinner table, the minute the words had left Woodman’s mouth. He’d asked Cain several times if the Navy had been on his radar prior to his own announcement, but Cain never directly answered the question, just smirked and told Woodman that someone needed to look after him.